#Massassi group

[girlrandomstuff]

OKAY i have this question? i guess

the ghost crew (Hera, Kanan, Ezra, Sabine etc) was a rebel cell from Lothal right?

and the Massassi group (with Jan Dodonna, Antoc Merrick, Davits Draven and Wedge etc) settle on Yavin IV was other rebel cell, right?

also Jun Sato's Phoenix cell was OTHER cell?

as well as the Free Ryloth Movement, led by Cham Syndulla, was OTHER cell right?

and all this rebel cells were secretly coordinated by Bail Organa right?? And to put it in a kind of way ‘their Folcrum’ was Ahsoka cuz she was the one to put them all in touch, RIGHT?? did I get it right or did I miss something??

[mayawakening]

Crying a little bit at the idea that at some point during the war, enough time passes that the perception of Kallus changes.

The older rebels know him as the Imperial defector that went a long way to prove himself worthy of trust.

ISB Commander, Agent Kallus, later known as Fulcrum.

The new, starry eyed recruits know him as the stern, driven and dedicated backbone of Massassi Group and family to the Spectres.

The legendary Captain Alexsandr Kallus, a true rebel and fighter for the cause.

[izzy-paints]

my star wars brainrot is approaching critical mass so I made a new sad force user to think about

Tarsus Sym'bre, bothan spy, Outer Rim intel operative for the Massassi and Phoenix groups, ronin force user.

[swtorpadawan]

Invincible

Author’s Notes: The following story takes place on Yavin during the Shadow of Revan storyline in my Halcyon Legacy. CW for violence, original character deaths, and brief blood and gore. Also – this is a rather long one, folks. My apologies.

“Dammit! We’re being driven back.”

Theron Shan’s face glowered in consternation as icons representing various Yavin Coalition military units shifted across the holo-map, many of them retreating while a few flickered out entirely.

The Revanite counterattack against the Coalition forces here on Yavin IV had come suddenly, besieging Republic and Imperial troops alike across a wide front. Within minutes, many of their forward positions were isolated if not overwhelmed, while the remaining defensive hardpoints were pinned down, unable to support other troops when they needed it the most. All coordination and communication between the reluctant allies had seemingly gone out the window in the wake of the assault, and the cybernetic communications relay in his ear was being bombarded with requests – pleas, really – for reinforcements, for support, for orders, for any help whatsoever.

Standing around the makeshift conference table at Coalition headquarters, the other members of the ah-hoc ‘leadership council’ – Lana Beniko, Satele Shan and Darth Marr – were likewise intently reviewing holo-transmissions and reports as they came in. Beniko’s expression was one of focused and controlled anger. That was the kind of personal discipline that made her such an effective Sith. Satele (Theron was trying very hard not to think of her as his mother at this moment) watched over the proceedings with a frown of contemplation. Until she saw the necessity to interject herself, she would keep her peace. Marr… well, Theron obviously couldn’t see the expression of the Dark Councilor’s face behind his metal mask, but Marr radiated intensity under normal circumstances. Right at this moment, with all their plans at risk and the campaign itself in doubt, the closest thing the Sith Empire had to an actual leader was positively seething.

None of them had bothered to respond to Theron’s dire assessment of the situation.

The unprecedented Yavin Coalition composed of the Imperial troops commanded by Marr and the Galactic Republic forces led by Satele had successfully invaded the moon known as Yavin IV and – up until just a few minutes ago – had appeared to be on the verge of victory, pushing the remnants of the Order of Revan back until they were almost at the base of the ancient, pyramid-like temples for which Yavin was infamous. Some of the forward Republic recon troops had even reported they’d been facing greater resistance from the indigenous Massassi warriors than they had from the Revanites.

Now the Coalition forces had been caught overextended, with the Revanites driving a wedge between the Republic and Imperial forces. It seemed almost everyone was calling for reinforcements, air support, resupply, orders… the command headquarters couldn’t cope with it all.

“Isolate the problem.” Satele Shan’s voice was carefully measured as she broke her silence. She may have just as well been presenting a logic problem to a group of Jedi younglings in a classroom back on Tython for all the alarm she demonstrated. “Revan is attempting to distract and overwhelm us. Otherwise, his attack would have been much more precise. If we can look past his maneuverings and identify his true strategy, we’ll be able to understand his intentions.”

As if on mental reflex, Theron realized that she was right. He recalled Master Zho teaching him that same technique so long ago in his childhood, and he strongly suspected that Zho had been the one to demonstrate the same stratagem to Satele once upon a time in the Grand Master’s own youth. (Though he had a very hard time imagining Satele ever being a youngling.) Coalition command had been thrown off its game. Junior officers of both factions were scrambling around the conference table with the communications aides urgently relaying messages and reports. Just outside field commanders were yelling for their troops to form up and prepare for deployment as soon as the orders came down. The sound of artillery fire could be heard in the distance…

These factors were all just distractions.  

Theron had always preferred being a field agent over being an analyst. Indeed, he’d been more than a little rankled when Marcus Trant, the Director of the Republic’s Strategic Information Service, had temporarily placed him on desk duty as a punishment for one of his “unsanctioned operations”. (Alright, it had been several “unsanctioned operations”.) But that inclination didn’t make him any less effective at analyzing tactical information. Utilizing his cybernetic implants, he crunched the numbers, trying to make sense out of all the chaos. Finding his center. His sense of calm…

Time seemed to slow down for Theron. As he looked down at the map, he didn’t see soldiers fighting and dying or the Coalition at risk of collapsing. Instead, he saw a clearer picture start to take shape.

After a moment of contemplation, it became obvious to Theron that the Revanites’ numbers were not as impressive as the ferocity of their attack would seem to suggest. Nor was their counter-offensive as broad as it had initially seemed on the map. Yes, the Coalition flanks were being pressured, but only half-heartedly, as if to discourage reinforcement or encirclement of the main thrusts by the Order. The allies still enjoyed a significant overall advantage in force strength by better than a two-to-one margin; maybe even more. But that advantage had been neutralized by the Revanites’ rapid advancement…

“There.” The crisp, Imperial voice interrupted his thought process.

Much to Theron’s chagrin, Lana Beniko, the former chief aide to the Minister of Military Offense of the Sith Empire (and his erstwhile partner for the last few months in exposing the Revanite conspiracy), had found the solution first.

Beniko re-oriented the holo-map, zeroing in on one particularly deep thrust into the Coalition lines. The display flickered as live holo-streaming of the scene quickly followed the three-dimensional image, projected above the map.                      

“This is the tip of their spear.” She explained, as they watched the small group of Revanites effortlessly tear through a platoon of Republic soldiers. The assailants appeared to be cyborgs… led by a single armored Sith Lord. “Their vanguard. It’s the lynchpin to their attack. Their momentum is keeping us hamstrung.”  

Theron immediately recognized the design of the cyborgs from their mission to Rakata Prime months earlier. Infinite Elites. Revanite volunteers surgically enhanced with Rakatan technology in a process developed by Gorima – a sick, twisted Selkath scientist who’d been operating a secret laboratory on Manaan, the same creep who had briefly tormented their ally, Jakarro, the Wookie smuggler. These cyborgs were incredibly powerful, with their advanced, regenerative capabilities allowing them to shrug off most attacks. Revan had intended to build an entire army of the Infinites, using them as his shock troops. They’d proven to be so dangerous that Theron had even wanted Jedi Master Corellan Halcyon, their ally against the conspirators, to terminate the Infinites they’d found on Rakata in their stasis pods out of hand. (Corellan had refused. Typical Jedi nobility. With hindsight, Theron shouldn’t have been surprised.) Regardless, he’d been relieved when their efforts on Manaan and Rakata had resulted in the destruction of the completed Infinite prototypes, as well as the technology required to create more of them.

Apparently, that sense of relief had been premature.

There may have only been a squad of them, but these Infinites were nevertheless hammering through their formations like a juggernaut, the thin end of the Revanite wedge driving into the Coalition lines.  

“Revan must have gotten them off Rakata before we moved in on them.” Theron heard the frustration in his own voice even as he silently called in an air strike via his implant. “He planned this. Keeping them in reserve until now.”

Seconds later, the quartet around the table watched as a squadron of Republic dive-bombers unleashed their payloads upon the advancing squad of Revanites. As the holoprojection flickered to adjust to the smoke and fire, Theron witnessed a Jedi and a Sith leading Coalition commandos into the area. The intelligence agent briefly allowed himself to hope that this strike had finished off the Infinites and would blunt Revan’s entire counter-offensive.

That hope quickly evaporated as he saw the massive Sith Lord who had been leading the Infinites rise to his feet, activating his twin crimson lightsabers. Theron had not initially identified this foe beneath his strange, ornate armor, but now, on closer inspection, he realized that he recognized this mighty Sith Pureblood.

Indeed, nearly everyone in the entire galaxy should have recognized him by now.

“Kael.” Marr hissed behind his mask, the Dark Councilor’s voice was dripping with venom and contempt.

Lord Kael Nosrol Krannus was a towering Pureblooded Sith Warrior of great renown. Over the course of his relatively brief but infamous career, he had led countless operations against the Republic, from crushing the War Trust on Taris to freeing the Dread Masters on Belsavis. Dozens of Jedi and thousands of Republic soldiers and civilians had fallen beneath his blades, including wiping out at least one Strategic Information Service team at a safehouse on Nar Shaddaa. According to the intelligence reports Theron had read, he was wanted for a long series of war crimes and had gained a reputation for brutality even by the standards of the Sith. But it had been on Corellia where his ruthless butchery against his enemies had earned him a new epithet: The Emperor’s Wrath. He had become Vitiate’s chosen, hand-picked to eliminate the Emperor’s enemies both in the Republic and within the Empire. Although the Sith Lord had never formally been named a Darth, anyone would have been foolish to think him any less deadly for that lack of title. Indeed, he had already crushed several of the most powerful Darths in the Empire for apparent disloyalty to the throne, even slaying his old master, Darth Baras. He’d thus cemented his claim as the Emperor’s Wrath before going on to lead Imperial troops on Ilum and beyond.

There had been no reported sightings of Krannus in almost a year, not since he had supposedly broken with the Dark Council and the entire Imperial hierarchy. Locating him had been a priority of the SIS for some time.

Right at this moment, Theron sorely wished that the Emperor’s Wrath had remained missing.

He watched as the Sith Lord stormed through the Coalition commandoes, ignoring multiple blaster shots to his body mere moments after shrugging off the aerial bombardment.

The Coalition Jedi and Sith attempted to divide Krannus’ attention, attacking him from opposite flanks; the Twi’lek Jedi on his right with his lightsaber and the human Sith Lord on his left with Force lightning. For a moment, Theron thought they might have succeeded when the Jedi’s blade caught Lord Kael’s armor squarely on the shoulder while just missing his helmet – a blow that should have all but severed his arm – while the Sith’s lightning blasted at his armored torso.

Impossibly, the massive Pureblood shrugged off these lethal assaults and then, in a single move displaying more agility than should have been possible for a man of his size, simultaneously impaled both of his opponents, one lightsaber sinking into the chest of each.

Just like that, the effort to stop Lord Kael and the Infinites had been snuffed out, the few the surviving commandoes quickly overwhelmed by the Infinites.    

Theron grimaced. Not even Mandalorian beskar should have protected the Sith Lord so completely from the kind of punishment Krannus had taken, and he wasn’t even slowed down.

As a stunned silence settled around the table, Theron remembered that the Coalition had already definitively ruled out any orbital strikes from the fleets above. The main temple held by the Revanites was protected by a force field for one thing, and for another they’d decided that the risk of friendly fire falling on their own forces was too great. (Though Marr, of course, hadn’t been thrilled with that decision, given the stakes in play.) That danger was even greater now with the Infinites driving so far into the Coalition lines. There was nothing else he could think of in the Coalition’s arsenal that could have stopped Krannus.            

“Please magnify on his armor.” The firm, unexpected voice cut through the silence.

It was only then, as he looked up at the speaker, that Theron realized there was a fifth individual watching the display above the holo-table. Jedi Master Corellan Halcyon looked like he had just fought through Hell itself while simultaneously looking resolute enough to invade it for a second time at a moment’s notice. The Jedi’s robes were singed at the edges and his armor was lightly scorched though undamaged. His expression, normally healthy and open, was darker and grimmer than Theron had ever seen before with bags under his eyes and a pallid complexion.

He doesn’t look good. Theron thought to himself. But one could not have told that from his posture or from the clarity of his voice.

This was the champion who had taken down the Emperor’s Voice on Dromund Kaas. Who had spear-headed the raid on Korriban and then mere hours later had liberated the Jedi Temple on Tython. The one person who Theron and Lana had trusted when they’d gone on the run after they’d been framed for killing Darth Arkous and Colonel Rian Darok on Rakata Prime. On Rishi, he’d defeated Nova Blade pirates, Mandalorian bounty hunters and Revanite conspirators in quick succession without seeming to break a sweat, inflicting more damage in a few days than Lana and Theron might have managed in months.

Since the joint task force had arrived on Yavin three days ago, Halcyon had been even more impressive. His reputation alone demanded respect from friend and foe alike. Every time a trouble spot emerged, every time it appeared bad feelings over decades of war might drive a wedge between the reluctant allies, Corellan had personally intervened, acting decisively yet amicably, putting out fires before the leadership council even knew about them and showing a mutual respect that puzzled the Sith, impressed the Imperials and inspired the Jedi and Republic troops to put their differences with their allies aside and behave themselves. If the Hero of Tython – who’d probably fought and killed more Imperials in combat – Sith and otherwise – in his relatively young life than anyone else still breathing (aside, perhaps, from Satele Shan herself) had made no objection to fighting alongside the Empire, hardly anyone else could either, given the circumstances. He hadn’t started this campaign with a reputation as a diplomat, but he definitely seemed to be building one for himself, albeit unintentionally.

His entire demeanor seemed to have changed since coming to Yavin. At first, Theron wanted to think it was just the proximity of so many Sith. Then he wondered if it might have been that their target was Revan, a figure who was almost mythical in the tales of both the Jedi and the Sith. Heck, Corellan, like Theron, had probably grown-up hearing bedtime stories about the legendary fallen Jedi.

But now, Theron was starting to fear that it was the presence of the Sith Emperor here on Yavin. The same tyrant who’d captured Corellan and his crew at his Fortress years before, imprisoning them for months. The same cancer who was, if reports were to be believed, responsible for much of the suffering the galaxy had experienced dating back to the Mandalorian Wars.  

The same enemy who Corellan – and the entire Republic – had hoped had been permanently destroy during the attack on Dromund Kaas.

All this has to have taken its toll. The SIS agent privately suspected. It was rumored that Halcyon hadn’t been sleeping; simply meditating for an hour or two at a time before pressing on with whatever needed to be done. He’d rotated his crewmembers regularly to keep them fresh, then had headed off on another mission. Each time, he’d check in with the temporary command center at the base camp, reporting on details he had observed that might have been missed through the various chains of command.

He also hadn’t shied away from putting his own crew at risk when necessary. Yesterday, he’d designated his loyal astromech droid, Teeseven, to oversee the advance sensor array they’d set up, thus keeping the Coalition’s monitoring system impartial. Later he’d ordered Sergeant Rusk to take temporary command of a company of Republic troops who had lost their commanding officer during the fighting. The veteran Chagrian soldier had quickly whipped that demoralized unit into shape, and even now they were successfully holding one of the critical defensive positions along the Coalition’s lines despite the Revanite assault. And just minutes ago as the attacks had begun, Corellan had assigned his squad medic, Doctor Archiban Kimble – or ‘Doc’ to anyone who asked – to treat wounded Imperial soldiers who’d been cut-off from their recovery camps. The Imperial officer on site had sworn an oath that no harm would come to Doc, and that he would be returned safely to the Jedi Master afterward.      

Satele and Marr had provided the leadership and legitimacy. Theron and Lana had delivered the expertise and intelligence on the Revanites and how they operated. But it had been Halcyon, with the aid of his crew, who had brought a sense of unity to the Coalition.

Theron had worked with Corellan Halcyon off and on for more than two years now, ever since enlisting the Jedi Master in a couple of off-the-book operations to deal with problems the SIS would have preferred to remain under wraps rather than address through “official” channels. He was a bona fide hero. A paragon, even. The best Jedi warrior of his generation. A champion of the Republic and the protector of the free galaxy. Honestly, he was exactly what most Jedi younglings grew up wanting to be. The guy the Republic military put on their recruitment posters.

Since they’d arrived on Yavin, Theron had learned that beneath that surface, Corellan Halcyon also possessed a keen tactical mind. One that understood full well the strategies employed by Sith and Jedi, Empire and Republic.

By now, Halcyon had become extremely effective at combating the Revanites, regardless of which faction they’d previously worked for. Their enemies might all claim to serve Revan, but it had been proven on Rishi and now again on Yavin that they weren’t all ‘one big, happy family’. The Order of Revan desperately needed symbols to rally around; specifically, they needed the symbol of Revan himself.

That was the kind of unifying symbol that Halcyon was providing to the Coalition.

And it was now apparent to Theron that the Jedi Master was proving surprisingly adept at approaching people undetected. Even where it concerned dealing with allies.

Even when dealing with Force users as potent as Darth Marr and Satele Shan.

Theron usually prided himself on maintaining a good sabacc face. After all, he was an SIS agent. That sort  of went with the territory. But he had no doubt he looked startled right at this moment. Lana had also blinked in surprise at the unexpected arrival. Marr’s face was concealed by his mask, but even his head tilted up in surprise as Corellan’s voice cut through the room.

Only Satele seemed nonplussed at the Jedi Master’s sudden appearance, simply accepting it in stride. If the Grand Master was concerned with Corellan’s behavior or physical appearance of late, she had clearly decided not to reveal that in front of the Sith. She nodded in Theron’s direction, who was only now reminded that he was the one at the terminal controls.

The Republic operative swallowed, increasing the magnification on Krannus’ armor as requested. Some of the resolution was a bit hazy – that often happened when transmissions were broadcasting during a battle with portable surveillance equipment – but the distinct pattern across Krannus’ body eventually became clear. The bulbous pieces looked strange to Theron, who was familiar with a great many body armors commonly used throughout the galaxy by soldiers, mercenaries and Force-users.

“I don’t recognize that design.” He admitted.

“Nor do I.” Lana admitted, who looked over towards Marr and Satele, questioningly.

The Jedi Grand Master was once again in silent contemplation, as if the answer to the problem was hiding right in front of her but would only reveal itself in time.  

Officially, Darth Marr was the head of the Sith Empire’s Sphere of Military Strategy and was the second-longest tenured active member of the Dark Council. Unofficially, Marr was effectively running the Empire at this point, having bent the Council to his will. Analysts in the SIS had been taking bets on how long it would be before Marr formally declared himself the new Emperor.

Theron hadn’t taken that action on the bet. Marr knew what had happened to Darth Malgus on Ilum when he’d tried to claim Vitiate’s throne and establish a “New Empire”. Even when it came to Vitiate himself, who’d ruled the Empire for more than a millennium, the facade of invincibility that once came with that position had been shattered. As an institution, the Sith Empire only operated properly when everyone was too frightened of the Emperor to challenge him, or to risk compromising his goals with the internal squabbles. The title of Emperor must have looked much less attractive considering the present political climate, where any Sith who claimed supremacy risked being pulled down and destroyed by his fellows.

Theron suspected that Marr was playing a much different game.

Regardless, he also had to assume that Marr had more practical knowledge than just about anyone else living concerning the multitude of exotic weaponry of the Sith. And he was being silent.

That silence worried Theron intensely. With all the other surprises the Revanites had thrown at them over the last few months, the last thing they needed was mysterious Sith armor that seemingly made one of the most dangerous Sith Lords living invincible.

As he tried to analyze the armor for weaknesses, he could only consider it an effort in futility.

“Honestly, it doesn’t look like armor at all. It looks more like… shells.” He added, grasping for any observations.

With Krannus leading them, the Infinites couldn’t be stopped. With the Infinites leading the Revanite assault and driving a wedge into the Coalition lines, their entire offensive couldn’t be stopped.

Invincible, indeed.

“Orbalisks.” Corellan’s calm, matter-of-fact voice cut through the silence once again.

Theron turned to look over at him again. The Jedi Master was looking down at the projection in what he could only describe as ‘intense detachment’ as the magnification moved out again. In the projection, Lord Kael had Force-leapt onto an attacking Imperial Walker, knocking the towering machine over before eviscerating its driver with his lightsabers for good measure.

Theron was realizing no one else had responded to Corellan yet. He had no idea what an ‘orbalisk’ even was and no one else seemed to be stepping up either. In the absence of any elaboration, Lana took the lead this time, her brow furrowed intently as she addressed the Jedi champion.

“Do you know how we can stop him?”

Corellan Halcyon turned away from the display and towards Lana. The two of them had – along with Theron – developed a surprisingly strong working relationship these last few months. They had made a good team, regardless of their personal, political and ideological differences. (And Lana allowing the Revanites to abduct and torture Theron. That had been a bump in the road.) This question undercut a reversal of roles; usually, it was Corellan relying on Lana and Theron for information, direction or analysis.

But here in this instance on Yavin, the people standing around the table were relying on the young Jedi Master for his knowledgeable insight.

“We can’t.” Corellan answered firmly, gently stressing the first word. “But I will need some help.”

That wasn’t lost on Theron. The Hero of Tython clearly had something specific in mind. Something he intended to personally put into motion.

Corellan had followed Lana and Theron’s lead on Manaan, Rakata and Rishi, and he had likewise acknowledged the authority of Satele and Marr as leaders of the leadership council assembled here on Yavin.

But now, he was calling his own play.

We’ve underestimated him. Theron considered. All of us.

The Hero of Tython raised his arm to chest level, tapping the communicator on his wrist.

“Kira. We’re up. Maneuverer Alderaan-Delta-Three.” He paused, checking his chrono and apparently doing some quick calculations in his head. “Eleven minutes.”

“On it.” a familiar, feminine voice answered. Corellan closed the channel just as quickly.      

Since they’d started working together, Theron had long come to understand that Corellan usually only operated with one of his companions by his side at any given time. He had always assumed there was some method behind his choice; a specific companion for a specific kind of mission. That would make good strategic sense, though the particulars in Corellan’s thought process usually escaped him.

Theron had met Kira Carsen several times. First on that Corellian rescue job almost two years ago, then more recently at Carrick Station before the assault on Korriban. He liked her. Frankly, she was probably the most outgoing Jedi he’d ever met and she was genuinely funny. (Granted, her jokes directed at Theron about being ‘Satele’s kid’ had grated on him, but he could deal with that.) Her combat record was proof that she was fantastic with a lightsaber, too. He’d been rather surprised that he hadn’t seen her working beside Corellan lately. He knew that she’d been by his side earlier on Rishi but when Corellan had first arrived at the safehouse Theron shared with Lana and Jakarro, Rusk had been accompanying him. Later, he’d seen Teeseven and Doc at his side as well. He’d found it curious at the time, idly wondering if the two Jedi were ‘on the outs’ somehow.

Whatever Corellan had in mind – whatever ‘Maneuverer Alderaan-Delta-Three’ even meant – he’d clearly decided he needed Kira with him to execute his plan.

The Jedi turned towards Theron and Lana.

“Set a timer.” He requested. “I need every bomber we can get in the air to hit Kael and the Infinites in exactly ten minutes in successive waves. Then pull them off after 30 seconds.”  

Theron set the timer on reflex, then checked the data. The Infinites had advanced well past the range of the remaining Revanite anti-air flak cannons. At the speed they were moving at now, it would be a tricky target; even fighter-bombers usually weren’t designed to hit a target as small as a single squad. But he could predict their movement speed and relay those coordinates to the pilots.

“We can do that.” Theron offered. “But you just saw that it won’t keep them down for long.”

Corellan looked down at the SIS agent intently. For a second, Theron thought he might have seen a hint of a grim smile on the Jedi’s lips.  

“I don’t need it to keep them down for long.”

Without another word, he turned and headed towards the exit.

“I’m ending this battle.” He spoke as he walked away from the table intently, never breaking stride or even looking back over his shoulder. “Now.”  

Theron blinked as the Jedi Master departed, then turned back and looked at the others.

Lana seemed uncertain. Satele looked concerned but continued to keep her silence. Marr… Marr just continued to watch the passageway where Corellan had exited, as if trying to decide something. Theron now realized that Corellan hadn’t even asked Satele or Marr – the Coalition’s nominal leaders – for approval of his plan.

Without anyone needing to say anything, Theron relayed the orders.

 Kira Carsen was more than ready to go when she’d gotten the call.

Three days of barely seeing any action back on the ship while a massive battle waged around her had admittedly left her antsy.

Corellan would have known that, and she knew he wouldn’t have held her back this long without a good reason.

She’d also barely seen him since they’d arrived on Yavin. He would have known how that would make her feel, too. She knew he wouldn’t do that to her if it could have been helped.

(It also didn’t help that they could both feel the Emperor’s presence here on Yavin. Deep down, she’d always known he hadn’t been completely destroyed on Dromund Kaas. But feeling him this close still put her on edge.)

These were their lives: They meant everything to each other, but the needs of the rest of the galaxy would always come first.

Kira knew that. She understood it. She even accepted it.

That didn’t mean she had to like it.  

Still, she’d been monitoring the situation carefully. Kira had been in enough battles to know that this one was rapidly approaching its climax: the fight between the Revanites and the Coalition would be decided over the next few minutes.  

And in this crucial moment, Corellan Halcyon, the vaunted Hero of Tython, had called her. She’d never admit it to anyone, but that meant something.

(It meant everything.)

Kira didn’t know if she’d ever be a Jedi Master. That goal had once been a driving ambition for her; something to solidify her sense of acceptance within the Order. To give herself that reinforced sense of belonging that she’d been seeking for most of her life. Maybe she’d even have been able to stir things up with some much-needed policy reforms. But the last few years – spent with Corellan and their crew – had eventually led her to reconsider her career goals.

She was happy with who she was. And with where she was in her life.

For example, Kira couldn’t imagine there were many Jedi Knights who could outfight her in a one-on-one lightsaber duel at this point. After all, Kira had been the one who’d struck the killing blow against Darth Nox on Tython, one of the most feared Sith in the galaxy and a particularly infamous member of the Dark Council.

But Corellan was the most driven lightsaber duelist she’d ever met. He was up before dawn most mornings (long before Kira usually rose), sparring with Scourge for an hour before even showering and sitting down for breakfast. Then, if they didn’t have a mission that day to keep him occupied, he’d spar with Kira in the early evening, working them both almost to exhaustion.

He was dedicated.

(And if Kira had ever felt overshadowed by her partner, he’d more than made it up to her during their nights alone together. Lightsaber training wasn’t the only thing he was dedicated to.)

And he did his homework, too. There probably wasn’t a holocron or text on lightsaber combat in the Jedi Archives that he hadn’t borrowed for review at least once.

But as valuable as those had been, they couldn’t begin to compete with the knowledge provided by the individual who lived in their cargo bay.

For someone like Corellan Halcyon, training with someone like Scourge was more valuable than a dozen holocrons. The former Emperor’s Wrath had spent three hundred years hunting and slaying the Emperor’s enemies, effectively becoming a ‘boogey-man’ within the Sith Empire. Kira thought it was ironic that most of those ‘enemies’ had been Scourge’s fellow Sith. (After all, up until these last few years, the Emperor had had little to fear from the Jedi, himself.) He’d taught Corellan dozens of techniques that would aid him in facing and defeating his enemies.

In the years since Dromund Kaas, Corellan’s reputation among the Sith and Imperials had only reached new heights. Even most Mandalorians refused to accept contracts on him anymore; not since his meeting with Xadya on Makeb.  

Kira hadn’t listened to every lesson Scourge had taught Corellan about ancient Sith weapons and rituals, but she’d gotten the gist of what orbalisks were. (And frankly, the things sounded incredibly disgusting to her. As neat a trick as it sounded, invincibility would not be worth having those nasty bugs all over her body and digging into her skin.) According to Scourge, Vitiate had destroyed all known records of the blasted creatures decades ago. Not because he feared they could make a rival Sith powerful enough to face him; Kira’s ‘father’ was apparently far above such physical concerns. No, it was more to discourage any ‘fools with delusions of grandeur’ who managed to master the Dxunian creatures from even attempting such an act.

And Corellan being Corellan, he’d put in more than a little thought into how to counter an enemy employing the parasites should the need ever arise.

Kira supposed she owed the ‘Big Tomato’ a ‘Thank you’ for that kind of help.

The culture of their ship facilitated this kind of thinking. Hundreds of hours of training amongst their crew had led to the creation of dozens of combination maneuvers for various contingencies. Alderaan-Delta-Three was one such combination. With Scourge’s assistance; Kira and Corellan had trained for it in parts, but they’d never actually had the chance to use the whole thing in a real fight.

To Kira, that uncertainty made this job even more exciting.

Also, she’d get to bring her speeder-bike. Things were always more fun when they involved speeder-bikes, in Kira’s opinion. It would be a pity to lose this one; she’d spent months customizing it just the way she liked. Force, it was even purple.

But if this worked, then it would be worth it.

Both for the thrill of the thing, and to win this battle.

The sooner they got off this rock, the sooner she and Corellan could get some alone time together.

 Theron knew that lightsaber enthusiasts and gamblers alike had been debating for years who would win in direct confrontation between the Hero of Tython and the reigning Emperor’s Wrath, and for good reason. The two champions of their respective factions were contemporaries: Corellan Halcyon and Kael Nosrol Krannus were near enough the same age with vaguely similar ‘career tracks’. Both were practitioners of Jar’khai, wielding a single-bladed lightsaber in each hand at once to devastating effect. Both had incredible combat records and a plethora of accomplishments, any one of which would have granted any warrior legendary status in the wider galaxy. Both had seen action at many of the same flashpoints that had defined the current conflict for the last few years.

Taris. Balmorra. Belsavis. However many others.

Frankly, it was a wonder that the two adversaries, these titans of the age, hadn’t met in battle before now.

Between the two of them, four consecutive Sith Lords at the head of the Empire’s Sphere of Military Offense - Vengean, Baras, Arho and most recently Arkous – had met their ends; the first two by Krannus and the latter two at the blades of Halcyon.

(Theron had heard that the entire ministry had recently been placed under Marr’s “temporary” stewardship, since Arkous’ death on Rakata Prime. If Theron had been Marr, who’d spent decades as the head of the Empire’s Sphere of Military Defense, he wouldn’t have been in a hurry to formally claim that position any more than he apparently wanted to claim the title of Emperor.)  

Nor was that the end of the parallels of their journeys. Corellan had reportedly slain Lord Kael’s brother on Belsavis. The Imperial Executor – a fanatically-loyal servant of the Sith Emperor’s will – had attempted to destroy the prison world to further Vitiate’s plans for a ritual that could have destroyed the galaxy.

(Just thinking about that report had boggled Theron’s mind. He was, after all, just a spy. Situations like this still felt like they were way above his pay grade.)

From what Theron had heard, Kael had been – if anything – even more loyal to the Emperor than his brother had been.

But now, seemingly in a complete reversal, the surviving Krannus had taken up with the Order of Revan. Conspirators who fanatically opposed the Emperor’s return to the point where most had turned their backs on everything they’d ever known, to ally with a fallen Jedi who’d gone missing for centuries.

What could have prompted such an astronomical shift in allegiance for the Sith Lord?

And now, after all of that, he was finally facing Corellan Halcyon.

Theron had it on excellent authority that Nar Shaddaa bookmakers had a massive betting pool of several million credits going of what would happen when the two finally met, with odds swinging back and forth between one or the other.

The intelligence operative couldn’t deny that as the fighters began their bombardment of Krannus and his Infinites and the seconds ticked down to whatever Corellan was planning, he felt a surge of adrenaline within him despite the circumstances. As he looked around the table above the holo-map, he could feel that the others were intrigued as well.

There.  

Within seconds of the barrage beginning, an icon representing a speeder bike appeared, tearing across the map, skillfully dodging stray blaster fire along the battlefield. The Coalition had been employing a handful of the machines, mostly for transporting portable equipment and relaying messages and orders that couldn’t be safely transmitted. This, however… this wasn’t one of those efficient, practical, military vehicles. Based on the specs of the data-stream, Theron recognized this one as an Aratech Coral speeder, a high-end civilian bike designed for style and mobility as well as speed.

As the holoprojection focused on the speeder, Theron noted the two figures were mounted in the pilot’s seat, a smaller figure – with short red hair, he noted – driving the vehicle while their companion, larger, wearing Jedi robes and armor, had their arms wrapped around the driver’s waist.

Just before the bike crashed into the Infinites, the two Jedi leapt off.  

The resulting explosion made the holo-display flicker as it knocked Krannus and his squad down yet again. Everything within ten meters of the point of impact was suddenly immersed in flames, the wild grass on the ground briefly catching fire before just as quickly burning out. Theron only now realized the speeder must have been rigged with incendiary explosives. As Corellan and Kira landed unscathed, their lightsabers lashed out at their fallen enemies.

Theron was starting to understand the broad details of their tactical plan. The Infinites were normally all but indestructible; but as Corellan had proven on Manaan, exposing them to extreme flames could briefly leave them vulnerable to direct attacks.

Including attacks made with lightsabers.

As Kira continued to finish off the stunned Infinites, Corellan turned his attention to Lord Kael, who suddenly found himself alone and isolated. The Pureblooded Sith had risen to his feet and now plainly recognized his opponent.

The Jedi Sentinel squared off against the Sith Marauder, with the fate of Yavin, the Order of Revan, and perhaps the whole galaxy on the line.

The Hero of Tython versus the Emperor’s Wrath.

As their blades met, Theron was tempted to ask for popcorn.

 Kira’s lightsaber impaled the last Infinite before it could rise, finally snuffing the last of them out for good.

For a fraction of a second, she wondered who this person had been before their transformation. Did they have a life? Did they have a family? Did they fall for some bill of goods the Order of Revan had sold them to get them to volunteer for this insane procedure?

Would they regret that their lives had come to this?

She was reminded of Agent Galen, who’d worked with Kira and Corellan on Coruscant and later again on Nar Shaddaa during the Desolator Crisis. The SIS agent had been abducted by Lord Sadic, and then horrifically transformed against his will into an Imperial-aligned Power Guard cyborg. Thanks to the Jedi duo, the Republic operative had broken free of the Sith’s control and had found peace with his lot. Kira heard months later that Galen had eventually met his end while serving on an SIS mission, but he did so on his own terms, doing something that mattered to him.

Kira took some comfort from that memory as she steeled herself and turned to join the main event.

The duel before her was incredible.

Kael Nosrol Krannus was using Form VII to deliver ferocious blows from both his sabers without restraint. The powerful Sith Lord was considered by many to be the master of using Juyo with twin lightsabers. Corellan was, for his part, seamlessly alternating between stances: employing Form Three – Soresu – to deflect Krannus’ attacks before switching to the powerful strikes of Form Five – Shien – to press him back; precision and grace one moment, decisive strength in the next.

The Jedi’s approach was slowly starting to frustrate Lord Kael, who – to no one’s surprise – was responding with overwhelming rage. His only rival for the title of ‘mightiest warrior in the galaxy’ had finally engaged him in battle and that challenger had already taken the early advantage by eliminating his supporters. Even as she approached, the Sith roared, battering the Jedi’s defense with powerful blows.

Kira scowled. Even this varp-head was ignoring her.

His mistake. she vowed to herself.

Kira Force-leapt at Krannus, her green double-bladed saber flashing high above the battlefield.

“Eat lightsaber, jerk!” she called out.

Corellan timed it perfectly. As a startled Lord Kael raised his crossed sabers above his head to meet Kira’s attack, the Jedi Master’s own blue lightsabers found an opening, slicing low at the Sith Lord’s ankle.  

Had it not been for the orbalisks, the blow would have cleanly severed Krannus’ foot, and that would have been the end of it.

Instead, the attack (mostly) glanced off the impenetrable armor. Wounded or not, the impact had definitely further enraged the massive Sith Pureblood however, pushing him even further over the edge.

“Shavit!” Krannus screamed in pain, his blades recklessly slashing at Corellan again even as the Jedi effortlessly jumped backwards, a graceful toreador fighting a mighty bull.  

Kira and Corellan hadn’t had time to discuss this part of the plan, but through their Force-bond, she knew they didn’t need to. She felt what he was doing. Kael’s orbalisk armor may have protected his body and even fueled his rage, but even with the Force, his physical and mental stamina had limits. Especially if he were wasting energy with his frustration.

This wasn’t the ‘end game’, of course. That would come later. But Corellan was a savant at lightsaber combat. Where most skilled duelists could, at the most, think a few moves ahead against an opponent of equal skill, it felt to Kira that Corellan could see a dozen moves ahead, even against a Sith as dangerous as the Emperor’s Wrath.

Krannus had the advantage of strength and resiliency. With his orbalisks, he could shrug off nearly any attack.

But as his frustration grew, it would also turn into anger and rage. Those emotions would power a Sith, but it would also lead them to make mistakes. The longer this fight lasted, the more Lord Kael fell back on his instincts. And those instincts had been honed long before he had donned the orbalisk armor. Those instincts were plainly built on the premise of ‘The best defense is a good offense’. (After all, if your enemy was dead, they couldn’t attack you, could they?) Within minutes he was again fighting like someone who was supremely confident in his capability to overwhelm his opponent with his powerful attacks to the point of arrogance, not like someone who rationally knew he couldn’t be wounded and had adjusted his tactics accordingly.

Corellan Halcyon and Kael Nosrol Krannus were equals in nearly every way. But here, their differences shined through for all to see.

Lord Kael had the benefit of his impregnable armor.

Corellan had the benefit of having a plan.

And of having Kira.

 As the duel in the center of the battlefield raged on, so too did the greater battle of Yavin.

Theron knew that there was a perception amongst the general populace of the galaxy that the great clashes between the Galactic Republic and the Sith Empire were ultimately decided by lightsaber duels between Jedi and Sith.

Historically, Theron knew, that was rarely the case. While there were always exceptions, most major battles were instead decided by planning, logistics and – in Theron’s experience, what with being an SIS agent – superior intelligence.

He was starting to realize that – despite the Hero of Tython’s reputation as being exactly that, a Hero – Corellan Halcyon understood the same thing. Young though he was, at some point during his adventures, Corellan had learned to appreciate the difference between tactical planning and strategic planning:

Good tactics could win you a fight.

Good strategies could win you a war.  

Because regardless of whether he and Kira could beat Krannus, in eliminating the Infinites and halting Lord Kael’s advance, he had already stopped the Revanites’ momentum cold. Their offensive had stalled.

The Coalition lines, buckling mere minutes earlier, were now consolidating and holding firm. Formations had regrouped, communications re-established. The pressure on the flanks faded as the Revanites struggled to hold their gains against superior numbers. The ‘wedge’ into the Coalition lines was now under pressure. Now, it was the Order of Revan troops that were looking overextended.

In that moment, Theron Shan finally began to understand why Halcyon had been so successful throughout his career. Yes, he was brave, skilled and powerful, but now he understood that this was what the Jedi Master had actually done on all those other worlds in his travels.

He didn’t do other people’s jobs for them. Instead, he took on the central problem those people were facing – the one obstacle that was causing the crisis and preventing the people there from doing their jobs – and that freed everyone else up to refocus on what mattered.

He helped people to help themselves. That not only earned him peoples’ gratitude, it also minimized any potential resentment people might have for being ‘rescued’.  

And that’s what he was doing right now for the Coalition commanders.

Even if Corellan and Kira did fail to put down the ‘invincible’ Sith Lord, they had already defeated him. The Revanites were starting to be pushed back by Republic and Imperial forces all along the front. Looking down at a secondary display, Theron noted the icon representing the troops under Sergeant Rusk’s command. They had routed a group of the Order of Revan’s attack droids they’d been fighting and the Chagrian was even now driving his soldiers forward.  

The tide had been turned.

Win or lose the battle, Corellan Halcyon had already won the war.

 How long had they been fighting? Minutes? Hours? It could have been a day for all Kira knew. But the Force was surging within her, firing up her endorphins. She hadn’t felt this powerful since she’d purged Vitiate from her mind back on the Desolator above Tython years before.

Right now, with the adrenaline pumping in her veins, she felt like she could keep fighting like this forever.

And with Corellan at her side, she never questioned what the outcome of this fight would be.

It wasn’t courage, really. It wasn’t even faith, though Force knew she believed in Corellan Halcyon more than she believed in almost anything.

No. This was the confidence of certainty.

In the four years since Kira’s Knighting, Corellan had never taken on a new Padawan, despite numerous offers from the Jedi Council to do so. Nor had Kira accepted any assignments that would have allowed her to begin formally training a Padawan of her own; something she’d always intended to do herself.

Their physical relationship aside, this fight highlighted the reason why. They simply could not do the things they did with anyone else. Certainly not with a padawan.

They frankly would’ve gotten anyone else killed.

At some point, perhaps inevitably, Krannus had shifted his tactics, refocusing his attacks on taking down Kira while simultaneously attempting to hold off Corellan. No doubt he had decided that once he’d dealt with her, he could have turned his full attention on the Jedi Master in a one-on-one engagement with improved odds. Theoretically, it was a sound strategy, eliminating your weaker opponent so you could then focus on the main target. Kira and their crew often used similar tactics against particularly powerful enemies and their followers, allowing Corellan to isolate and defeat the primary threat.

But Lord Kael employing this plan in turn against this particular duo ignored three critical factors:

First, while she couldn’t match Corellan in sheer power or ability, Kira Carsen was still one of the most skilled duelists of her generation of Jedi. One who’d spent a childhood training to be a Sith on Korriban and who’d endured an adolescence just surviving the dangers of Nar Shaddaa and who’d spent nearly every day for the past four years training against the very best the Jedi Order had to offer. As far as she was concerned, she was no one’s “weaker target”.

Second, countless Sith – and far more Imperials – had already attempted this exact same tactic against the pair of Jedi. Thus far, it hadn’t worked out for any of them. Their ‘switches’ – where Corellan and Kira would suddenly change positions during a maneuver – had been the undoing of some of the deadliest Sith in the galaxy, most notably with Kira’s lightsaber spelling the end of Darth Angral on the Desolator and – much more recently – delivering the death blow to Darth Nox during the Empire’s assault on the Temple of Tython.

Third, the bond between Corellan and herself now far surpassed anything she imagined any two Sith – with their inherent distrust of each other – or any two Jedi – with their dogmatic dismissal of attachments – could ever experience. Kira and Corellan fought as one.

This Sith Lord didn’t have a chance.

As his frustration continued to build, Lord Kael let out another roar of rage.

“Schutta!” he cursed, calling upon the dark side as a massive radial Force blast knocked Kira and Corellan back.

Had she been on her own, Kira might – might – have been intimidated by the sheer power behind the blast. Krannus was proving to be even more powerful than Zu’fanda Pampya had been on Tython. More powerful than Darth Malgus had been at Ilum. Perhaps – in sheer power – he was second among the Sith only to Vitiate himself.

But fighting beside Corellan, with his innate combat senses and reassuring presence, she saw the blast it for what it was: a desperation move.

As she regained her balance, Kira found herself smirking in spite of the situation. The attack had been against both Jedi, but the expletive – with its feminine connotation – had unquestionably been directed against her. She’d gotten to him.

So when Lord Kael reached out his fingers and she felt the pressure of a Force choke squeezing her neck, Kira didn’t panic. Her own defensive barrier, having briefly flickered by the Force blast, reasserted itself, resisting the strength of the Sith’s attack. He was still restricting her breathing, but he couldn’t apply enough pressure to strangle her or to snap her neck. With time, perhaps, he could have rendered her unconscious.

But time was something Lord Kael Nosrol Krannus had just run out of.

Corellan Halcyon had risen to his feet.

As Kira glared into the Sith’s golden eyes, she could tell the moment they both sensed what was about to happen. Engaged this closely to Kael, she could feel him start to panic as he desperately used the Force to hurl her towards the oncoming Corellan, clinging to the hope that it would buy him a few more seconds to regroup.

And Kira… Kira simply placed herself in the hands of the Force. And in the hands of Corellan. Instinctively, she turned her body sideways in mid-air, watching in awe as a cerulean blue lightsaber passed above her by mere inches while sensing an identical blade passing below.

It took her mind a second to comprehend what had happened; as Kira’s body had been thrown towards him, Corellan had unleased both of his weapons in a twin-saber throw towards Krannus, one directed above her, the other beneath, no more than a meter apart.

It was an insane move.

Had Kira not turned her body at the precise instant she had, she’d have been sliced apart.

Before she could process that, however, she felt Corellan’s hand catching hers. Rather than pulling her into his arms, she instead felt his own body turning in place. Kira’s feet never touched the ground as her deep blue eyes caught his icy pale blues for a fraction of a second.

That fraction of a second was all Kira needed to understand exactly what Corellan was doing.

Had they been anyone else – any other two Jedi in the galaxy – this entire maneuver would have been insane. They’d have both been killed.

But they weren’t anyone else.

They were Kira Carsen and the Hero of Tython.

They were young. They were in love.

But above all else, they were heroes.

And today, with the eyes of the galaxy upon them, they would prove that claim beyond any doubt.

Spinning in place, Corellan effortlessly redirected Kira’s momentum, releasing her hand and hurling her back towards Krannus.

The Sith Lord had barely fended off the attack of Corellan’s sabers. Turning to see the Jedi Knight hurtling towards him through the air, her green, fluorescent double-bladed lightsaber ignited, even his Force-enhanced reflexes weren’t fast enough to block her attack.

In that instant, as the Emperor’s Wrath looked up at her in shock, Kira felt like a living weapon.

More, she felt like she was his weapon.

It was nothing like what she’d felt like when she been under the Emperor’s control. Back then, she’d felt like she was losing her own sense of identity. Like she was less than a slave.

Here, through her bond with her partner, she felt free.

Because someone like Kael Nosrol Krannus, who’d spent most of his life devotedly serving the worst tyrant the galaxy had ever seen in pursuit of his own personal power, would never understand that to someone like Kira Carsen, moments like this weren’t just worth dying for.

Moments like this were what she lived for.

Kira’s blow caught the inside of Lord Kael’s helmet as he screamed out in pain, dropping one of his lightsabers as he reached his hand up to grasp at the wound. She landed on the other side, turning to see that Corellan had regained his own lightsabers and was now standing alongside her.

Whatever Krannus’ helmet was made of must have been tough; he wouldn’t have survived this long if it wasn’t. But it didn’t protect his entire face.

As his blood spilled across the ground, Kira realized that she’d put out his right eye.

There had been a multitude parallels between Kael Nosrol Krannus and Corellan Halcyon over the years. But how they faced change and adversity were quite different.

Kael had once placed his total faith in Vitiate, the Sith Emperor, the being of ultimate power who had ruled the Empire for more than a millennium convinced that service to that monster was the truest path to power.

When he’d seen that faith shattered, he had thrown himself into the service of Revan, losing all sense of himself in his pursuit of revenge.

Corellan had once placed his total faith in the Jedi Order and the Galactic Republic.

When he’d seen things that had challenged that faith, from the Jedi Order’s dogmatic apathy on Voss to the Republic prison on Belsavis to Chancellor Saresh’s “military reforms”, he’d learned from it. He’d grown up. Matured. Evolved. He’d accepted that he could look past the shortcomings of others and find the strength within himself to do the right thing. That our beliefs could evolve without sacrificing the principals that defined us.

Corellan had accepted that he could change without abandoning the things that made him Corellan.

Their choices had now led these two icons of their respective, warring factions to this point here on Yavin at this exact moment.

With his remaining good eye, Lord Kael now glared at Corellan with a burning hatred.

“They call you the Jedi assassin.” He spat blood on the ground between them.

Kira felt a flash of anger at the Sith’s verbal snipe. She wanted to shout back at him that Corellan was the blasted Hero of Tython, and that he had saved the whole blasted galaxy, and that Kael could take his insults and go kriff himself.

Instead, she felt nothing but a cool acceptance from Corellan, who maintained a defensive stance with his lightsabers drawn.

“I would imagine they do.” He acknowledged, a placid expression on his face. “I’ve killed many people in my time, Lord Kael. Sith. Imperials. Criminals. Even a few rogue Jedi here and back on Rakata who joined you in Revan’s service.”

Corellan exhaled.

“I admit, at one point, even I was afraid I was turning into something I wouldn’t recognize.”

Krannus stood stunned, breathing heavily, a trickle of blood trailing down his red cheek from his ruined eye socket. Lightsabers usually cauterized the wounds they caused; this was something else. His body wasn’t responding normally. And whatever response he’d expected from his barb at the Jedi, it hadn’t been a confession.

“But just recently, I met with… with an old friend.” Corellan continued.

Kira knew instinctively that he was speaking of their encounter with the Force-ghost of Orgus Din, his old master, on Rishi. Corellan may have called almost everyone he’d ever met a ‘friend’, but she knew the few who actually got to him.

After all, she knew his story.

She knew everything about him, inside and out.

“That friend helped remind me of who I am and why I do what I do.” The Hero of Tython continued. “That I do have a future, if I can just let go of my fear that it will never come.”

He smiled wistfully.

“The strangest thing happens when we let go of our fears, Lord Kael. We become… well, I believe we become more of ourselves.”

To Kira, that very sentiment said so much about Corellan. Some cynical thinkers – and maybe even Kira herself – would claim that people were defined by their fears. How much suffering had been caused by people fearing their fellow sentient beings? Or for a lack of resources? Or a hundred other fears that seemed to drive everyone’s motivation? Even Kira’s own story had only really begun when she’d fled Korriban in fear of what the Emperor was doing to her.

Right or wrong, Corellan was exactly the kind of person who would think that people could only become the best versions of themselves when they let go of their fears.    

That was one of the things she loved about him.

And he wasn’t finished.

“But that begs the question… with all the sacrifices you’ve made from just by donning that armor, what is it that you’re afraid of?”

Krannus’ good eye blinked once, and Kira found herself smirking as he snarled in anger at the barb. As Corellan raised his lightsabers, Kael’s hand lashed out with a massive blast of Force lightning towards the two Jedi…

 All along the front, the Coalition forces were emerging from their defensive positions, starting to advance. Slowly at first; the Revanites were fanatics and they made their enemies fight for every step. But the loss of their momentum and the carefully coordinated counterattacks ordered by Satele and Marr were having the desired effect: The allies were once again starting to gain ground.

In a few minutes, if Krannus were even still alive, he’d be encircled.

So when Lord Kael’s blast of Force lightning struck Corellan’s crossed sabers, Theron decided that this had to be the end.

As lightning met lightsabers, the seconds started to pass. Roaring again in frustration, Krannus’ added his left hand to the attack, discarding his lightsabers entirely as the holoprojection flickered at the sheer power being unleashed from both hands.

Any second now, Corellan would break the circuit. He would turn the lightning aside and take the fight back to the Sith, even if he couldn’t directly penetrate the armor. Or, perhaps, he’d have Kira lead off with a series of distracting blows, then move in himself for the kill.  

Once that happened, the leadership would order an all-out attack. The Revanites were already starting to buckle. Once Krannus was off the board, everything else would – Force-willing – fall into place.

He watched intently. Any second now…

Theron finally blinked, as the seconds kept ticking by and electrical charge against the sabers continued to build. Only now did he notice the awkward silence around the table.

“Uhm.”

 Kira remembered, some years ago, Corellan discovering that he had no real aptitude for the Tutaminis Force technique beyond the rudimentary level. This was not particularly remarkable; only a small percentage of Jedi – among them Grand Master Satele – were skilled enough in the art of energy absorption to harness the truly impressive effects, like absorbing Force lightning or deflecting a lightsaber blow with their bare hand.

(Kira had heard a rumor once back on Tython that some Jedi and Sith could even use the Force to freeze a discharged blaster bolt in mid-air for several minutes by using only their minds before releasing it with full effect on a target. She’d always assumed that story to have been a crock: no one could ever identify a single individual who’d performed the trick. If Kira herself had seen it, she wasn’t sure that even she would have believed it.)

Still, it was a bit of a surprise that Corellan hadn’t managed to at least become adequately skilled at it. Aside from his old friend Ulannium, he was probably familiar with more Force combat techniques than any other Jedi of their generation.

But learning this one particular feat had always alluded him.

Still, hours upon hours of training with Scourge and Kira were sure to pay dividends eventually. The grumpy old tomato had probably seen more combat between Force-users than anyone else living, aside from maybe the Emperor himself.

But when Corellan had discovered the capability of doing something even Scourge had never seen or heard of before, even the Sith Lord had been impressed. And on that fateful day more than a year ago when the three of them had attempted this move together in a secluded valley on Alderaan, the effects had been, well… shocking.

Despite nearly being electrocuted during the exercise, Scourge hadn’t even been mad. In fact, he was as close to pleased as Kira had ever seen him. Heck, the grumpy old tomato had almost smiled.

The very rage that was powering Kael’s lightning attack was also going to be his downfall. Even with that pool of anger to draw on, sustaining this continuous torrent of lightning would be physically and mentally exhausting. Further, it would blind him to the fact that the charge building against Corellan’s lightsabers was actually growing brighter.

Lightning was supposed to dissipate against lightsabers; Tutaminis or no, it wasn’t supposed to build up.

Through Kira’s Force bond with Corellan, she could feel the moment coming. The Hero of Tython was focusing all his attention on the power building within his crossed sabers. In a sense, it felt like a test of wills between the Jedi and the Sith.

Engaged as he was, there was no possible way that Corellan could redirect that power himself with any kind of precision.

Of course, if Corellan were properly attuned through a Force-bond to someone skillful enough… well.

When the instant arrived, Corellan didn’t need to say anything. He didn’t even need to project anything towards her.

Kira simply knew.

She thrust out her green lightsaber blade, crossing it with Corellan’s weapons at a precise angle that should have been impossible to calculate.

The resulting blast of Force power erupted from the built-up charge, and it launched itself towards Krannus, faster than any of them could process.

The Sith Lord screamed in pain, blasted by electricity of his own making.

It was part of what Scourge had taught them about orbalisks: They were vulnerable to concentrated electricity. They could resist an attacking Sith’s Force lightning adequately enough… but they could not resist the wielder’s own power.

Kira watched as Kael continued to scream, the orbalisks literally burning off his body as the Sith Lord struggled to break free, to no avail.

As the final surge struck him with all the power of a thunderbolt, the Emperor’s Wrath was knocked off his feet for the third and final time this day.

The lightning finally dissipated.

The Sith Lord lay there on the ground motionless.

It sounded to Kira as if nearly the entire battlefield had suddenly gone quiet. She could hear blaster fire somewhere in the distance, but it felt like the planet itself was holding its breath for whatever happened next.

Corellan lowered his lightsabers, deactivating them as he exhaled in exhaustion, barely able to stand.

And yet, the victorious Jedi Master was still standing.

Krannus wasn’t.

Tired though she was from her adrenaline high wearing off, Kira reached out to Corellan through the Force, offering him a gentle caress. His eyes closed for a moment in acceptance and soon, his breathing started to return to normal. She could feel him becoming rejuvenated and felt more than a little satisfaction that she could have this sort of impact on him without even touching him.

He didn’t even look back towards her. But then, he didn’t need to. She could feel his upswelling of appreciation and gratitude as if he had squeezed her hand.

Corellan finally stepped towards the fallen Kael Nosrol Krannus. Kira, acting on reflex, followed at his side, looking down at the beaten Sith.

The smell of cooked flesh was revolting as it reached her nostrils, and she could barely contain the nausea she felt. As they looked down at their fallen foe, Kira could almost imperceptibly observe the Sith’s chest rising and falling; his breaths were ragged and broken.

Krannus was dying. And he clearly knew it.

With his one good eye, the Emperor’s Wrath glared up at the Hero of Tython.

“Finish them, Jedi.” He snarled weakly. “Finish those who have deceived us.”

Kira understood immediately whom he meant, even as Corellan stood in place in stoic silence.

The Emperor.

And Revan.

The galaxy itself had been engulfed over an insane feud that dated back three centuries.

It had to end.

A final sigh escaped Kael’s lips as his head fell back, yellow eyes still open, looking skyward.

The Emperor’s Wrath was gone.

 Back at Coalition headquarters, Theron had been standing by to give the order the moment Lord Kael fell. Before Krannus had even taken his last breath, the Republic agent had already toggled the open channel on his communicator.

“All Coalition forces – this is command.” He announced. “The Revanites are broken. General attack. Again, all troops, general attack. It’s time to finish this.”

Theron fell back in his field chair as the icons started to advance in earnest across the holo-map. If there had been any fight left in the Order, any faith in their leader’s mad plans, it had been spent the moment Krannus had fallen: They were running.

No more strategic planning would be needed. Not for commanding the troops, anyway.

“Whew.” Theron exhaled in relief. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that trick before.”

He beamed, looking up at the others.

All three pairs of Force-sensitive eyes around the table were still locked silently on the projection of Halcyon, Carsen and the body of Krannus.

Lana’s mouth had fallen open in shock for a long moment before she’d quickly composed herself, swallowing before letting out a breath. Satele’s eyes were clearly focused on the projection of Corellan, as if silently scrutinizing him for something only she could see. If she’d appeared concerned for her order’s young champion before, she was definitely rattled, now. Theron had long reasoned that part of the famed ‘Jedi mystique’ involved keeping one’s mouth shut when you didn’t actually have anything to say. Grand master Satele Shan certainly personified that approach. Meanwhile, hidden behind his mask, Marr’s throat made a sound that Theron couldn’t even begin to describe, nor did he think any human mouth should have been able to make.  

Once again, it was Satele who seemed to regain her senses first.

“Deploy the medical teams to recover our wounded.” She ordered, reasserting herself, the very picture of decisive calm. “Alert the fleet in orbit to be on guard for fleeing transport ships. We cannot allow Revan or any of his followers to escape us again.”

Theron, blinking surprise at the reactions of the others, nodded in assent and relayed the instructions.

As the battle of Yavin came to an end, the SIS agent reflected on what he’d seen this day. Lana was certainly highly intelligent and knowledgeable concerning the Force, but it was their mutual superiors who’d captured his attention.

Satele and Marr were two of the most active and accomplished leaders of Jedi and Sith in history. They’d seen countless battles over the decades, fighting endless enemies. Between the two of them, they’d probably opened Force-knew how many holocrons or other ancient texts to expand their respective knowledge of the Force.

Neither of them had even recognized the orbalisk armor that Krannus had been wearing. And certainly neither of them had seen anything like the feat that Corellan Halcyon, at just twenty-seven years of age, had just performed with his former padawan.

Reflecting on that, Theron finally turned his attention back to the live feed of the duel that had just ended.

Halcyon and Carsen had turned their backs to the fallen Sith Lord and were now walking back in the direction of the Coalition lines even as their troops advanced the other way. Their part in the wider campaign was done.

As she followed a step behind and to the right of Corellan, he saw Kira turn and glance over at him, an expression in her eyes that he couldn’t quite interpret through the projection.

Theron was usually a loner by choice. It suited his personality. But just for a moment, he truly envied Corellan Halcyon for having a partner like Kira Carsen.

 Minutes later, now standing just outside of Coalition headquarters, Kira stood across from Corellan.

Right this moment, she wanted so badly to grab him and kiss him. She would have shoved him back against the nearest tree and…

But it wasn’t the place or the time. Even in this moment of relative privacy, there were too many Republic and Imperial officers close by. Anyone could have been watching them.

Meanwhile, Satele, Theron and the Sith were waiting for him.

Revan was still out there, preparing to do Force-knows what. Regardless of whether or not it was really him behind the mask, he needed to be dealt with.

And beyond Revan was the Emperor.

As always, there was never enough time for them. And until they gave it up, there never would be.

Still, in this moment, Corellan had let the mask drop for a bit. The cold front he’d put up for the Sith. For Marr, Beniko and even Krannus. The ‘Hero’ personae he’d put up for Satele, Theron and the Republic. She alone could see the vulnerable man beneath the invincible hero.  

That was enough for her. For now.

The development of Corellan’s “mask” meant she owed Scourge another ‘thank you’. As much as she loved Corellan, she’d been worried the Sith would exploit his blasted heroic nature for their own ends. So along the way, he’d learned to present the face of someone else for when he needed it; someone who could consistently throw his enemies off based on their expectations of what a Jedi even was. Between his Force camouflage and the public demeanor, they didn’t see him.

Kira had heard that Darth Marr claimed that the mask he wore was his face.

Right now, it felt like Corellan’s face was a mask.

On the flip side, he’d probably worried both of the Shans with how he’d been acting the last couple of days in front of the Sith and the Imperials. That would need addressing at some point, Kira knew.

But here, alone with her for this moment, he could allow himself to be vulnerable with her. More than that, he could be himself.

That moment couldn’t last, of course.

“You’ll tell him that its time?” he finally asked her.

I love you. Was what Kira heard.

“Yeah.” she nodded in agreement. “I’ll send ‘Big Red’ in.”

I love you, too. Kira had answered.

Without another word, she turned and left, feeling his gaze following behind her before he, too, took his leave.

 “How did he do that?” Darth Marr nearly growled beneath his mask.

The Coalition forces had turned the victory over the Revanites into a route. But no one could have discerned that based on Marr’s mood in their headquarters.

“How did he even know about orbalisks? They haven’t been seen in the Empire in centuries! I barely recall even reading about them from some forbidden text in my youth!”

“My lord, please.” Lana beseeched her new boss. She’d had the presence of mind to dismiss the support staff so they wouldn’t be around to witness any ‘potentially difficult’ discussions. “I can begin making discreet inquiries once this current situation is concluded.”

Theron didn’t have any explanation that could have placated Marr and decided to himself that a snarky remark would be ill-timed right now. So he and Satele were quietly continuing to coordinate the mop-up effort while Lana attempted to defuse the situation with the frustrated Dark Councilor.

Marr paused, turning to glare down at the younger Sith.

“Talented as you are, Beniko, I doubt even your guile could determine how a young Jedi learned of long-forgotten Sith techniques.” Marr’s voice had leveled, but he couldn’t quite keep the slight hiss from his tone as he addressed his subordinate. Indeed, it was so intimidating, he probably hadn’t even tried. Regardless of how he felt about her right now, Theron didn’t envy Lana having Marr’s attention in the slightest.

Fortunately, they were interrupted before things escalated any further.

“’There is no ignorance, there is knowledge’, Lord Marr.” Halcyon’s voice echoed in the clearing as he approached the table, as he quoted the opening line of the Jedi Code, the same doctrine that Sith Lords so famously rejected with contempt. Clearly, the Jedi Master had overheard the conversation.

Theron found himself surprised that Corellan didn’t sound remotely smug; just coy. Aside from his singed robes, there was little sign he’d just fought the battle of his life. Indeed, if anything, he looked reenergized.  

“You’ve returned.” Satele noted assessing him with a conciliatory nod. “Well done, Master Corellan.”

If she was still concerned with Corellan’s state, and Theron had to believe that she was, she was keeping it well-hidden in her voice behind a shield of formal compassion. Her veneer of calm was as unflappable as always.

Corellan turned to the famed leader of his order and bowed, crossing his arm across his chest in the Jedi salute.

“Master Satele.” He returned the formal greeting, bowing his head. “Thank you for approving the bombardment.” Corellan paused. “I regret there wasn’t time for me to sufficiently explain the plan earlier.”

Theron bit his lip, remembering their previous conversation.

“So we gathered.” The Grand Master assented. Their exchange was entirely civil, but Theron noted that it had not been entirely warm.

“Yes, let me second those congratulations, Master Jedi.” Lana stepped towards Corellan, giving him a surprisingly genuine smile. “It was a remarkable victory.”

She paused as if about to speak further, looking past Corellan towards the entrance.

“Will we be meeting your talented companion?”

Corellan returned her expression. Somehow, though, the smile he gave her didn’t quite reach his tired eyes.

“I’m afraid not, Lana.” He answered. “Knight Carsen was needed elsewhere. But thank you.”

Again, civil words. But delivered more formally than Theron would have expected from a man who was usually so open.

Corellan paused and looked around at the faces around the table.

“What’s our status?”

Theron, undistracted from the drama with Marr, had been ready for that line of inquiry.

“All units report success.” The SIS agent reported. “The weapon has been shut down and all the Revanites have been neutralized.”

He let that sink in, knowing what was coming next.

“Only one more left to deal with.”

Theron didn’t have to announce who that was. Lord Kael Nosrol Krannus had been all but invincible, but in the end, he’d just been a follower. There was no doubt in his mind that Revan had been the one who’d donned Krannus in the orbalisk armor in the first place. They’d be foolish to think their quarry didn’t have more surprises in store for his enemies, even with his army thoroughly beaten.

“Iven told us where Revan might go.” Satele reasoned. “The Emperor’s final sanctuary.”

A moment of silence fell across the table. Defeating the Order of Revan had been one thing. Defeating Revan himself – and possibly the Emperor, as well – was something else altogether.

Marr regarded Halcyon with what Theron could only assume was an appraising look beneath his metal mask. It felt like the Sith Lord was finally regarding the young Jedi Master with new eyes.

“You must realize, Master Halcyon, that if you embraced the dark side of the Force yourself, then no one in the galaxy would be able to stand in your way. Not even Revan.”

His voice felt like a viper slithering up Theron’s arm as he dangled the other, temptingly.

“You would be invincible.”

Satele’s eyes narrowed at the suggestion that her order’s champion could be corrupted in such a manner and even Lana looked downwards and shifted her feet uncomfortably. Theron found himself torn between the practical advantages of a dark-sided Corellan Halcyon and the fear he felt in contemplating the Jedi as a Sith Lord.

But Corellan Halcyon himself merely turned and regarded the towering Dark Councilor in turn. Marr stood at least five inches taller than the Jedi, but they might as well have been at eye level for all that mattered. The thinnest of smiles came to the Jedi’s lips.

“But then who would you find to stop me, Lord Marr?” he asked. “When I became too powerful to be contained and ruled your Empire for my own benefit?”

Theron watched as Marr’s powerful shoulders clenched at the barb. The reminder of what Vitiate, a veritable demigod ruling the Sith Empire for thirteen hundred years, had done was still fresh in everyone’s mind.

Before Marr could respond, the intelligence agent decided to change the subject.

“We could call in help.” Theron offered, eager to break the tension. “Havoc Squad could be here within a day. And Barsen’thor Kaarz reached out to ask if we needed his assistance, as well.”

He considered their other options, glancing towards Lana.

“We could even call in Xadya, the reigning Champion of the Great Hunt, if the Empire wanted to contract some Mandalorian help.”

There was a quiet pause around the table, then Corellan shook his head.

“Not enough time. Whatever Revan is planning with the Emperor, we don’t have a moment to waste.”

Theron just nodded in agreement. He was unsurprised when again no one attempted to contradict Corellan’s assessment of the situation. Glancing sideways at Satele, he could see the reluctant approval in her eyes as well. Her concerns for the young Jedi Master could wait.

“We’ve got speeders prepped.” he promised, turning back to Corellan. “Jakarro is insisting on joining us as well. You won’t be facing him alone.”

Corellan just nodded back to Theron gratefully.

“Then let’s finish this.”

Without another word, he turned and headed back towards the exit, his ruined robes flowing behind him like a hero from some holovid drama.

Theron watched him silently as the others began their preparations.

He wondered if Marr had been wrong in his estimation.

Corellan Halcyon was, by all outward appearances, already invincible.

 Deep within the Temple of Sacrifice, a man behind a metal mask scowled as he witnessed his final roll of the dice come up short.

He’d known that Kael had been a blunt instrument given the state of mind the Sith Lord had been in, all but useless the moment a more refined response was called for. Nevertheless, had played the hand the Force had dealt him.

Now his followers were routed or fleeing. Even his personal guards, the Infinites, had been lost in that last assault.

The Order of Revan was finished.

That was unfortunate, but the cult had served its purpose getting him to this point. He was strong enough to complete his great work on his own no matter what these interlopers threw at him.

They might have been powerful. They might even believe that they were invincible.

But he was Revan.

 TO BE CONTINUED

 Author’s Notes: Full disclosure, a small chunk of the dialogue late in this story is pulled directly from the Shadow of Revan expansion, just before you go to face Revan near the end.

I’ve had this story in my Work-In-Progress writing journal for many years. At one point, I started to actually write a draft of it, then set it aside when the scope of the work started to become clear. It’s by far the longest thing I’ve written. That was two years ago. The final product involved going through many, many drafts, and has been a burden for these last three months.

It was the hardest writing project I’ve ever finished since I started writing fanfiction.

I remember one day thinking to myself ‘The Jedi Knight crew spends all this time together. What do they wind up talking about? What are their common interests?’ So I decided they talk a lot about combat. Rusk is a tactical specialist. Kira is an adrenaline junkie. Scourge is basically an ancient ninja. Doc is a field medic. Teeseven loves lightsabers. Corellan is Corellan. I imagined the group spent a lot of time designing maneuvers the way coaches draw up plays in American football and basketball. For the record, I do remember that when I fleshed out this idea, I had Skillet’s “Invincible” playing in the background. This piece was also partially inspired by the action scenes in the classic Deceived and The Return trailers.

This piece was originally planned as a chapter in a five-part series, with each piece featuring a point-of-view alternating between one of the Jedi Knight companions and one of the prominent NPCs involved in the S.O.R. story. (Lana and Teeseven would have been “paired” together, for example, like Theron and Kira were here.) That project wasn’t coming along, so this story is now a two-parter in that duology, with this chapter being the first. I’m fascinated by the idea of a story being told from the points of view of different characters who have different perspectives on the same scene based on their own understanding and preconceived notions. I touch on that concept for this chapter and I’m thinking I intend to make it even more pronounced in the next.

Writing action scenes is … still challenging for me. But I’m working on it.

We never see them in the actual SWTOR game story, but I head-canon that orbalisks are not commonly used in the “modern” Sith Empire, with even the knowledge of their existence a secret suppressed by the Emperor. By the time of the Shadow of Revan expansion, even knowledgeable Sith like Marr have barely heard of them. (Obviously, certain select individuals – such as a three-hundred year-old Sith Lord – are obviously more familiar.) I was tickled by the head-canon that Marr kept forbidden Sith texts under his pillow as a child. I know that many of you are not fans of Drew Karpyshyn, but I enjoyed his Darth Bane Trilogy. Those of you who have also read it will no doubt be familiar with some of my inspirations for this chapter. I wanted to introduce a special element into this fight and giving orbalisks to Lord Kael seemed to make sense to me.

Speaking of which, Kael Nosrol Krannus is one of my oldest OCs, dating back to when he was simply known as “Nosrol”. (Which sounded too much like one of the orcs from Warcraft for my tastes.) The literal intent of the character was to take (almost) every single dark-side choice available in the Sith Warrior Class and Imperial stories since I so often play light side. Simply put, he’s my token ‘edge-lord’, as terrible a trope as that is. But he was also a hardline Vitiate fanatic, and as such he fit the role here: when you shatter a fanatic’s faith in something, they don’t usually become a better-rounded person with a fresh perspective. They just find something else to be fanatical about. That development is about as interesting as the character gets. Other quick notes on Kael: First, ‘Lord Kael and the Infinites’ sounds like a good name for an 80’s death-metal band. (No, that wasn’t intentional.) Second, the game-play rule that Sith Warriors can’t make Force lightning is dumb. Third, his line of dialogue at the end is a reference to the Obi-Wan / Maul scene from Star Wars: Rebels, one of my favorite moments from that series.

Fun fact, the first reference to Theron in the actual game story comes from Kira Carsen herself, during a post-class story letter. I head-canon that Kira, in contrast to the discreet Corellan, frequently teases Theron about Satele being his mother. (She eventually quits teasing him after she joins the Eternal Alliance, but that comes much later.) Aside from his encounter with Orgus, Corellan didn’t team with Kira for much of the Forged Alliances / Shadow of Revan storyline, primarily because he was concerned about Lana or Satele or possibly even Revan himself putting two and two together concerning their relationship. Obviously, that weighs on my favorite one true pairing. Other notes on Kira: First, @taraum is the reason I have Kira calling Scourge ‘the Big Tomato’ and so on. Years later, I continue to be inspired by her work. Second, I’ve head-cannoned for a while that Kira loves the color purple and would change her lightsaber color to it if it didn’t make the other Jedi look at her suspiciously. (Lookup the story “Apex” on ff.net for my inspiration on that.) Third, SWTOR gameplay is weird. Regardless of the settings, companions often wind up acting like tanks in the fights, drawing the attention of mobs. So I have certainly seen enemies trying to gang up on Kira while I’m playing as Corellan, and they usually pay the price. Fourth, Kira’s Tutaminis rumor was a light dig at the opening scene from The Force Awakens with Kylo Ren. All jokes aside, it wasn’t a terrible film, but I can only look back on it now as a waste of potential knowing what was to come.

Theron’s obliviousness to Kira’s relationship with Corellan is just good, clean fun for me.

Unintentionally, I feel I’ve laid the groundwork for the Eternal Alliance storyline and the choices Lana, Theron and other characters wind up making concerning Corellan Halcyon as the future Outlander and Alliance Commander. On its surface, there aren’t a terrible number of reasons why Lana Beniko would ‘draft’ an Outlander like Corellan, who is probably a bit too idealistic for her tastes. The Corellan she sees here has a ruthless streak in addition to being an inspiring figure. That is the version of Corellan she wants to lead the revolt against Zakuul. (This naturally leads to some misunderstandings later on after she frees him. “Lana Beniko disapproves” indeed!)

I’ve alluded before that in my Legacy, Corellan and his crew met with Theron well before the events in the Forged Alliances story on a couple of “unofficial” missions. That story is even deeper in my WIP folder than this one was and probably will not see the light of day.

The Twi’lek Jedi and human Sith Lord who died fighting Kael are named Pol’fenn and Fen Huang. They are obviously minor supporting players here, but they are featured original characters in my Barith Legacy, where (obviously) they don’t meet their end fighting my favorite evil edge-lord. I might write about that “alternate timeline” legacy some other time.

My characterization of Satele Shan feels very passive in this story and that may draw some deserved criticism. I intend to address that in the next chapter.

I don’t know if any of you caught it, but there was an homage to the classic Dark Phoenix Saga story from the X-Men comics. It was just a bit of narrative text that always stuck with me, and it fit Kira and Corellan.

Stay tuned for “Part Two” of this story, titled Allies and coming… someday. I probably need a break from this series for awhile, but I’ll get to it. Kira won’t really be there, but Scourge and Satele definitely will be.

Thank you, and may the Force be with you.

-          SWTORpadawan

Tagging interested parties: @a-master-procrastinator @abbee-normal @abysskeeper @actualanxiousswampwitch @ainyan @amons-hat-enthusiast @ancha-meadow @anchanted-one @atlanta--airport @beaut-ful-d-saster @blueburds-but-swtor @cassthechaoticmercenary @certified-anakinfucker @chaosandwonder @chokit-pyrus @cinlat @commander-krios @connoissuer-of-fine-vines @cryo-lily @darthsinister66 @depizan @dynlegacy @eorzeashan @freedim @girlstandstill @gmkelz11​ @grandninjamasterren @inventedbyawriter @itstheelvenjedi @jayofolympus @jbnonsensework @justadreaminghufflepuff @karanan @kemendin @kgoblin @khrushchevs-corn-farm @lemonlinelights @lonewolfel @magicallulu7 @boggedfrog @misthios00 @mysterious-cuchulainn-x @nostalgiaaftersimming @rangerslayer-97 @oolathurman @pentacass @princessthriller @rogue-kenobi @sealeneee @shabre-legacy @shadowysthings @shynmighty @space-unicorn-dot @starknstarwars @sullustangin @taina-eny @taraum @the-jedi-knight-enjoyer @the-raven-of-highever @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @tishinada @velvetsunset @vexa-legacy @vihola​ @wackyart @what-we-fight-for @wilvarin-chan

[targaryenismuses]

Raquelle Jobal Naberrie

Born: 22 BBY

Fandom: Star Wars Oc

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION

She was born one of the

lasts heirs to the throne of Mandalore. Growing up as the

secret child of her parents,

however didn't last long.

Due to a trader giving her identity to the new formed government The Galactic Empire.

Only having a normal childhood for

two years, she barely remembered.

Her new life began on the planet Tatooine in hiding with her mother.

Having a simple life of home schooling like every child would go

through. Also she was to be trained

as a Jedi like her mother before her.

Wanting to keep her Mandalorian

Culture alive her mother made sure she fought like one too.

This however made Ricki fight rough and used her emotions more during

combat. Causing a fear of her falling to the dark side in her. Due to her mother, Reina, being extra protective over her. It made It made the young Naberrie a trouble

marker. She'd always sneak out and

rob new travelers of extra credits in their pockets.

Ricki used the extra

credits to help her mother pay for

bills, food, clothes, etc. She just lied

and said she got a job helping the Lars with their farm work. No one

on the dust bowl of the planet was

looking to hire a scrawny teenager

unless she wanted to go work for

the Hutts. Believe the force, she

wishes she could run her fist

through the whole Hutt

Clans.

With the force on her side, she never got caught by the wrong person. She just got caught by her mother one night when she found out Ricki never had a job. The two broke out into a fight that changed their relationship. She went to her room and her mind was just running. Her mother was holding her back. She was powerful could take on anyone or anything in the galaxy. She could be the change the galaxy needed.

Early the next morning, Ricki was on the transport and off the transport and off the planet to Coruscant.

She was 16 and alone.

While on the run she ran into an

order 66 survior named Quinlan

Vos, he gave her the chance to stay

with him for a week. Soon it became

3 weeks, 4 weeks then it became a whole year.

They bounty hunted

together and he taught her more about the force. He became like a

big brother to her. Vos endded up

leaving her behind on a job, where

he said he would come back for her.

He never did. So she had to fight for

herself. That night she was arrested for crimes against the Empire. She had a small trial and was to be sent to do mining work on Llum. However, her punished was changed to maintenance work.

She worked on a Star Destroyer in the lower levels for about a month until she was saved by a group of

undercover rebels. From there she

was taken to the Massassi Outpost

on Yain 4. Where she was asked for

any information. She gave small things she knew and new codes she

learned form small talks with the

officers.

Ricki felt a connection to of

the man who rescued her.

He later introduced himself as her father.

At first she wanted nothing to do with him as time passed she learned they shared some of the same hobbies. The two tried to make up for lost time.

Ricki started helping the Rebellion,

doing small work for Bail Organa.

She became his spy.

Getting sent to take down threats that might think of joining the Empire.

She took down worthless men or women who were slave owners.

Freeing the slaves. She was given the nickname 'The Kere' (kere is huttese for killer of evil) by the people.

Later, she

worked for Leia Organa for when

she needed something done but

couldn't at her hands dirty or to

find more Intel on the empire. Even

working with the Ghost

Crew at times.

After the fall of the first

Death Star, she reconnected with her mother. The two rebuilt their relationship together and after the war together and after the war she

followed her mother to try and rebuild Mandalore.

[swanimation]

Yavin 4, also known as Yavin, was the jungle-covered fourth moon in orbit around the red gas giant Yavin Prime. Prior to and during the Galactic Civil War, the Great Temple (also known as the Massassi outpost or Base One) hosted the headquarters of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, a group of resistance fighters that opposed the dominant Galactic Empire.

YAVIN 4 in Star Wars: Rebels

[calebdumes]

this is mostly @madamgarsa​ ‘s fault for putting inquisitor!kanan in my head.

kanan’s pov coming soon....

fandom: star wars rebels

relationships: Kanan Jarrus & Hera Syndulla (eventual kanera...)

rating: 18+ (violence and blood)

word count: 2.9k

~

This was starting to become a habit that Hera wasn’t so sure she liked and yet, she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She walked down the narrow, cracked stone steps that led deep into the Massassi temple, a gloved hand trailing against the moss covered walls. The passageway was lit with yellow lamps, fashioned to the ancient ceiling by a thick cord of wires but the light they emitted wasn’t strong enough to cut through the gloom that was perpetual this far underground.

She suppressed a shutter as she reached the detention level. It was even darker down here, the yellow glow replaced by an eerie blue from the surveillance terminals that were stationed in two small groups on the floor. One lone officer sat at one the terminals, dosing in his chair while a forgotten mug of caf sat steaming in his lax hands.

Hera cleared her throat, causing the officer to jerk awake.

“General!” the officer said, scrambling to his feet. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.”

“Our guest seems to be in a chatty mood as of late.” Hera responded with a slight quirk of her lips. “I’d like to capitalize on that while we can.”

The officer nodded his head in agreement. Whether he actually agreed with Hera was another story. Most everyone on base, especially those loyal to Draven, thought the Inquisitor should have been shot the moment he had been captured. But there were others, Hera included, that thought he could be more useful if left alive. So far, they have been proven right. Mostly.

For the first few days of his capture, the Inquisitor kneeled silently in his cell, not responding to any of the interrogator's prompts. He never moved, he didn’t even seem to breathe. Hera had requested to speak with him, after all it was her crew he had been chasing for the better part of a month but she had been denied time and time again. It wasn’t until she snuck down to the detention level that things had started to change.

It was slow going at first. He wouldn’t talk but he’d watch her with his strange yellow eyes. She’d ask question after question, not expecting an answer until one night, he responded. Hera had jumped at the low, gravely sound of his voice. It scraped out of his throat as if he wasn’t accustomed to speaking but there was a warmth to it that was just as odd as the color of his eyes.

Once he started talking, he didn’t stop. He had vital information on the Empire that the rebellion desperately needed and he was completely unfazed at sharing the intel. So far, she had acquired the fleet movements within the Gordian Reach and a list of supply transports that could easily be raided by small strike teams. The only problem was, the Inquisitor would only speak to Hera. Which led to the formation of her less than savory habit.

With each visit she would get some new information that put the rebellion one step ahead of the Empire but the information Hera really wanted, the Inquisitor refused to share. She was hoping that tonight however, things would be different.

The officer hit a button on the terminal, unlocking the heavy reinforced door that separated the holding cells from the rest of the floor. Hera walked through them with squared shoulders, determined to get answers.

The Inquisitor was watching her as she entered, yellow eyes trained on her every move. He was human, with shoulder length brown hair and amber skin. If it weren’t for the jaundice in his eyes, Hera would have never guessed this man was a formidable agent of the Empire. She might have, under different circumstances, found him to be attractive. She might have, even under these circumstances, found him to be attractive.

She stopped in front of his cell, the staticy red from the ray shield making his unnaturally colored eyes even more noticeable. He was kneeling in the center of the small space, his hands resting on his thighs, and the faintest trace of a smile on his face. It made her stomach swoop unexpectedly. Hera wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“What secrets would you like me to share today, General?” he asked in his low, rough voice.

“Your name, for starters.” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “We’ve been having these little chats for a while now and I don’t even know your name.”

“I hardly see why that’s important.” there was amusement hidden in the depths of his yellow eyes.

“Humor me.” she smirked in return.

For as terrifying as he originally appeared, the Inquisitor wasn’t what she expected. To others, he was like stone, showing no emotion but with Hera, she could see traces of a personality taking shape in his features. He was surprisingly funny and though she brushed it off as Imperial bravado, he attempted to flirt with her whenever he could. But the thing was, he didn’t act like an Imperial or an Inquisitor.

He was never cruel, not even when he had been tracking her crew across the stars. It had been annoying but he had never hurt them or even appeared that he wanted to. The Inquisitor was almost…kind. It was strange and slightly disconcerting, especially the growing sense of familiarity that had sprung up between them.

Hera knew she was walking a dangerous path. The Inquisitor was their prisoner, an Imperial, a murderer - not a friend.

But Hera couldn’t deny that somewhere along the line she had stopped thinking of him as a threat.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about that either.

“I am the Inquisitor.”

“That’s not what I asked. I already know what you are, what I want to know is your name. What do the other Inquisitor’s call you?”

The Inquisitor cocked his head to the side, pondering her as if she was some confusing puzzle he couldn’t figure out. “They don’t call me anything.”

Hera arched her brow. “They don’t call you anything?”

“My Master kept me away from the other Inquisitors.” he said, yellow eyes tracking every subtle movement Hera made.

“Why is that?”

A wicked and sinister grin split his face, making Hera’s blood run cold. “My Master likes to keep his other pets breathing.”

Hera was taken aback by his answer, the venom in his tone. She stared at him with wide eyes, overcome with a sudden urge to run away. The face that she had begun to think of as something short of a comrade had become twisted into the face of a predator stalking down its prey. Hera took a step backwards, moving away from the cell. Instantly the Inquisitor's expression softened, his fists clenching atop his thighs.

He ducked his head, his hair falling like a curtain around his face. “I’m sorry.” he whispered so softly that Hera almost didn’t hear it over the pounding of her heart. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You killed other Inquisitors?” Hera breathed. “Why?”

The Inquisitor looked back up at her, sorrow lined on every corner of his face. “What we are cannot be. We are abominations, twisted versions of the Force. The very air that we breathe taints the galaxy.” he shook his head. “We cannot be.”

Hera’s heart clenched at the raw emotion in his voice. She stepped closer to his cell. “Then why did you become an Inquisitor if you knew it was wrong?”

“Your question implies that I was given a choice in the matter.” he responded sadly. “I will tell you everything that I can to help you defeat the Empire.” the Inquisitor said. “I only ask in return that you end my suffering once and for all.”

Air rushed from Hera’s lungs as the gravity of his words hit her.“Y-you want me to kill you?”

The Inquisitor opened his mouth to respond but suddenly went deadly still. Hera’s hand dropped to the butt of her blaster at her hip. The Inquisitor didn’t move for several minutes, every muscle in his body rigid as if straining against some invisible force. “You need to flee.” he said, on his feet in a blink of an eye. “Take your people and run before it’s too late.”

“What?”

“My Master,” the Inquisitor said, inches away from the ray shield. “He’s coming.”

Seconds later, an alarm started wailing. The doors of the brig flew open as the security officer entered in a panic.

“General Syndulla, the base is under attack!” he cried frantically.

Hera’s head turned in his direction, her lekku flying. “Get to your battle station!” she ordered before hitting the control on the Inquisitor’s cell. The ray shield fizzled out of existence, leaving only a few inches between them. He looked at her with confusion.

“You said you weren’t given a choice? Well I’m giving you one now.” she said. “You can stay here in your cell or you can help me. You decide.”

“You don’t know the things I’ve done.” he swallowed thickly. “You shouldn’t trust me.”

“I know but something else tells me I should.” she told him. “So what’s it going to be, Inquisitor? Stay or fight?”

For a moment Hera didn’t think he was going to choose or that he would choose to stay in his cell. She was afraid that she had him all wrong, that there wasn’t a good person hiding behind what the Empire twisted him into.

But then the Inquisitor rolled his shoulders as said, “I am yours to command, General.”

Hera’s smile was full of teeth. “C’mon, I know where your lightsaber is. You’re going to need it.”

The Inquisitor nodded, following a step behind her as she ran from the brig into the main room of the detention level. She paused only for a moment to retrieve the Inquisitor’s weapon locked away at one of the terminals before throwing it in his direction.

He caught the weapon effortlessly, the burning red blade springing to life, cutting through the gloom. Hera waited for him to strike her down but after a few swings, the blade deactivated and he held it loosely at his side.

Something in Hera’s chest swelled at the sight. She brought her wrist up to her mouth and activated her comlink. “General Syndulla to control, give me an update!”

“Control to General Syndulla,” a voice crackled over the small device. “We’ve got three unknown craft that dropped out of hyperspace. Fighters have been launched to intercept but one of the ships made it past the blockade. The ground team is moving into position.”

“They won’t be able to stop him.” The Inquisitor said lowly.

“Got any suggestions?”

“I’ll handle my Master, you get your people out of here.”

“I am not giving up this base.” she said firmly. “We’ve worked too hard to flee at the first sign of trouble.”

“General.” the Inquisitor said, grabbing hold of her arms. “He will not rest until this temple is rubble under his feet. If you want this rebellion to survive, you need to run.”

“We’re not going down without a fight.” she said through clenched teeth. Distantly, she was aware of how gently the Inquisitor was holding her. She knew the kind of strength he possessed, she had seen with her own two eyes him take down walkers just by tightening his fists and yet, there was only softness in his touch.

Frustration flashed across the Inquisitor’s face as he released her.

“Fine.” he snarled. “The ship will have a strike team of twenty on board, all well trained purged troopers but if you have the numbers, it won’t be too difficult to overwhelm them. As for the other ships, they’re fast but unshielded. Your X-Wings should have no trouble.”

Hera gave him a curt nod in thanks before activating her comlink again. “Control, tell the ground team to initiate formation delta, I’m on my way to assist.”

“Understood, Control out.”

The Inquisitor was tense beside her, poorly concealed fear radiating from him in droves. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“Lead the way.” He responded, igniting his blade once more. Hera reached for her blaster and checked its charge, her mind focusing on the task at hand. The Imperials had made a mistake by coming here. She would make sure they wouldn’t live to make it twice.

Hera took off up the stairs, the Inquisitor steps behind her. She followed the sounds of blaster fire until they had reached the wide landing field where a small group of dark cald troopers fought back wave after wave of rebel fighters.

Standing at the bottom of the assault ship's ramp was a tall skeletal-like figure, a Pau’an with blood red markings on his face and the same yellow eyes as the Inquisitor’s. His gaze fell on them immediately, his lips parting to reveal a row of pointed teeth.

“There you are my pet.” the Pau’an said, reaching behind his back and pulling out a lightsaber with a circular guard. “Surely you didn’t think I would leave you here to rot with this rabble?”

Hera glanced over her shoulder to see the Inquisitor standing stock still. He still had his ignited lightsaber in his hand but he made no move to use it, on her or his Master. There was a war taking place inside of his mind, Hera could see it reflected in his eyes.

“Strike the Twi’lek down and join me.” the Pau’an continued, unbothered by the Inquisitor’s lack of answer. “Together we can accomplish what Lord Vader could not and end this pointless rebellion.”

Again, the Inquisitor refused to move. Hera felt her heart thumping against her ribs, adrenaline coursing through her system. All around her, blaster bolts flew, the fight between rebels and Imperial continuing unaware of the battle taking place between master and apprentice.

Suddenly, Hera felt pressure build around her neck. Instinctively, she dropped her blaster, her hands clawing at the invisible force that was closing off her throat. She felt her body being lifted into the air as her mind and lungs screamed for oxygen. Her legs twitched desperately, her nails scraping bloody trails down her neck as she fought for breath. Hera’s vision began to darken, her limbs growing heavy.

This wasn’t how she planned on dying.

But before she could fall into the waiting darkness, the pressure on her throat disappeared. She fell to the ground, gasping, greedy lungs sucking in gulps of air. Hera lifted her head as she heard the crackle of two lightsabers colliding. The Inquisitor had finally moved. He had run full speed at his Master, meeting him blade to blade.

They fought in a dizzying display of red light, moving at speeds that were unnatural for any living creature. More than once, the Pau’an’s blade made contact with the Inquisitor’s body, grazing his arm, his side, his leg but the Inquisitor didn’t falter. He brought his lightsaber down in a powerful swing, aiming for the Pau’an’s neck that his master only barely managed to block. The Inquisitor continued his attack, a flurry of blows that drove the Pau’an back, not giving him the opportunity to strike.

Just when Hera thought the Inquisitor was going to overpower his master for good, the Pau’an’s hand shot out and the Inquisitor froze mid swing, his face contorted in pain.

“Enough!” the Pau’an screamed, spittle flying from his lips. Blood trickled down the side of his head from where the Inquisitor had grazed him. His yellow eyes flashed with hatred and as his outstretched hand closed into a fist, he drove his lightsaber forward.

The Inquisitor screamed.

Hera knew she should move, help the others, do something but she couldn’t get her limbs to move. She watched in horror as the Inquisitor withered in pain from whatever his master was doing to him.

Killing him. His Master was killing him.

Hera didn’t remember reaching for her blaster or taking aim. She didn’t even remember pulling the trigger but she remembered watching the bolt slam into the Pau’an over and over, red streaks peppering his body until he crumbled to the ground in an unmoving heap.

Silence fell across the landing field, the troopers and their leader dead. The rebels came out from behind their barricades with their weapons held loosely in their hands, looking to her for guidance but all of Hera’s attention was on the other unmoving heap next to the Pau’an. All it took was one wet cough to drag her to her feet.

“Call a medic!” she screamed as she raced to the Inquisitor’s side, her knees colliding painfully with the duracrete. The Inquisitor was breathing, but barely. Blood covered his face, leaking from his ears and nose. As gently as she could, Hera pulled him into her lap, one hand hovering over the garish wound in his stomach. “Inquisitor!” she said, her voice shaking. “Inquisitor, can you hear me?”

The Inquisitor’s eyes opened, blue-green and breathtaking. They found Hera and a wide smile broke out across his face.

“K-kanan.” he said, his voice broken and weak. His teeth were blooded and when he tried to inhale, his body spasmed, coughing up clots of blood. “My name.” he gasped. “My n-name is Kanan.”

“Hang on Kanan.” Hera told him, hot tears burning her eyes. “Help is on the way.”

Kanan’s smile never faded, even as his eyes slipped closed. “I’m y-yours to c-command.”

[xxlittle0birdxx]

WIP: Kallus’ First Life Day

The mess was unusually crowded for so early in the morning. Although, given the cavernous dimensions of the space, crowded was a relative term. Kallus generally ate breakfast so early, the mess was practically deserted that time of day. It looked as though the supply runners had all returned at the roughly the same time. Zeb stood and waved a hand to get his attention. Kallus collected his breakfast and took his tray to one end of a long table occupied by the other Spectres. He gave Zeb a delighted smile and leaned forward, rubbing their cheeks together. Zeb threaded his hand through the hair on the back of Kallus’ head and brought their foreheads together. ‘When did you land?’

‘Bout an hour ago,’ Sabine told him. She wrinkled her nose at them. ‘Y’know, it’s pretty early in the morning for all… that.’ She flapped her hand in Zeb and Kallus’ direction.

Kallus’ cheeks went pink, but he shot her a impish grin all the same, and took a seat next to Zeb. Picking up his caf, he asked, ‘How long are you going to be here this time?’ The last time the Spectres had gone on a mission, they’d managed to stay at Massassi Base for two days before they headed back out again.

‘We’re gonna be here for at least a week,’ Hera said. ‘Just in time for Life Day.’ She moved a chunk of juicemelon around her plate with a fork. She lifted it to her nose and gave it an experimental sniff, then hurriedly put it back on the plate, the skin around her eyes tightening. ‘Doesn’t give us much time to prepare for it.’ She pushed her tray aside, leaving most of the food on it.

Kallus stared at her over the rim of his cup, putting it down just before the caf could slosh over the edge. ‘You celebrate Life Day?’

The Spectres gaped at him for a long, very uncomfortable moment.

‘You don’t?’ Rex asked incredulously. ‘Even the clones celebrated Life Day,’ he added under his breath.

Kallus blushed and poked the porridge on his tray with a spoon. ‘The Imperial military doesn’t,’ he reminded them stiffly.

‘Never with yer family?’ Zeb inquired, one brow quirked up. Kallus was old enough to have celebrated Life Day before the Empire officially frowned upon it. Even the most down-and-out types who would have cheerfully sold their grannies for a hit of spice that he’d encountered on Nar Shaddaa celebrated Life Day.

‘Not really. We might have done so when I was very small, but I don’t remember. And we certainly did not when I was older,’ Kallus replied. ‘My father said it was a load of utter nonsense…’ he trailed off, looking at their faces set in various expressions of surprise. ‘What?’

‘You’ve never had the tree or lights or candy or anything?’ Sabine blurted.

‘No.’

Sabine and Rex shared a glance that clearly said they were already planning something potentially embarrassing. ‘Right.’ Sabine rubbed her hands together. ‘How much leave have you accumulated?’

‘I wasn’t aware the Rebellion granted such a thing.’ Kallus pushed a piece of juicemelon around its plate, his eyes glued to it.

‘Intelligence types never remember personal leave exists,’ Rex retorted. ‘Worse than Jedi, and that’s saying something.’

Hera hummed as she swiped through a datapad. ‘Says here you’ve got a few days banked, and you haven’t taken so much as an hour.’ She tutted softly.

’Great!’ Sabine sipped her caf. ‘Hera can ask Draven to give you the day off, and you’re going to spend it with us.’

‘There’s work to do,’ Kallus protested, but Rex cut him off.

‘Work which will still be there the next day. The Rebellion’s not going to fail because you took a day off.’

‘We’ve still got some decorations on the Ghost,’ Hera commented. ‘No wroshyr trees, but that doesn’t matter.’

Kallus frowned and shoveled a few bites of porridge into his mouth as quickly as he could without coming off as unforgivably rude. Wroshyr trees? Decorations? Candy? He shook his head slightly, as though he were trying to dislodge an irksome insect around his ear. What was next? Some arcane group dance in which they would expect him to particiapte? Stars knew Sabine could tell him he had to wear some outlandish costume, and he wouldn’t know any better.

‘Don’t suppose anyone has a stash of gifts hidden on Ghost somewhere. Or we could make gifts,’ Zeb mused. ‘We always made our gifts on Lasan.’

‘Life Day is the day after tomorrow,’ Sabine reminded him.

‘Doesn’t have to be something fancy,’ Zeb argued.

Kallus froze, spoon midway to his open mouth. Gifts? Where the kark was he supposed to acquire gifts? More to the point, he had no experience giving gifts to anyone.

‘Maybe we should hit the brakes on gifts, too,’ Rex suggested, with a tilt of his head toward Kallus, who looked like a shiny in his first run in the Citadel test back on Kamino by the barrage of information and questions.

Hera glanced at Kallus, took in his wide-eyed pallor and hummed an assent. ‘Probably a good idea this year. We’ve had a lot of other things on our minds.’

‘Runnin’ low on joopa jerky to give away, are ya?’ Zeb chortled.

‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ Rex insisted. ‘Parsecs better’n bantha jerky.’

‘Not sayin’ much,’ Zeb drawled. ‘Eat enough bantha jerky and ya won’t need a ‘fresher for days.’ He grinned. ‘Not for lack of tryin’, though.’

[palepinkycat]

I’ve made this quite some time ago, needed a reference becaue ughh, could never get his tattoos right.

*click for better quality*

And a fancy war paint version because? He’s dramatic, let my brooding sweetheart be dramatic.

His backstory under the cut, tried to make it as short as possible but, well… 🤠 

- Born to a humble family of carpenters on Medriaas, Lakqâ wanted more than a lifetime of chopping wood.

- He sought to impress the Gods. He used to use an old axe for training since he couldn’t afford getting a proper weapon.

- His friend and later fiance, Iviluann, managed to smuggle a sword out of her house. He didn’t want to accept her gift at first, he knew the sword belonged to her family but Ivi asked him to keep it and wield in her honour. He’s been practicing day and night ever since.

- On the day of the Annual Tournament, each of the Six would choose sixty-six warriors - either Dashades or Sith from the Massassi caste.

- Aivela’s new lover - one of the slaves she’s received as a gift from her father, a cunning man she quickly rose through their ranks - asked her not to choose the Massassi brutes but instead men of every caste and origin willing to fight for her. And so she did. Lakqâ was one of them.

- When Izax learnt about his daughter’s intentions, he went furious. He believed the slave poisoned Aivela’s mind seeking to destroy their sacred traditions. He wouldn’t let his best champions fight low-borns and outcasts.

- After defeating Scyva’s warriors, Izax ordered the other Gods to leave and challenged Aivela’s champion. She agreed, choosing Lakqâ as her representative. Instead of warriors, however, Izax chose sixty-six slaves.

- Izax knew that refusing to fight them would bring shame upon Aivela. He wanted to see if he could force her hand.

- Ready to suffer humiliation, she ordered her champion to stand down. Everyone went quiet when Lakqâ approached the group of slaves with his sword still in hand. Aivela’s lover stood up, ready to attack the man as he raised the blade and cut the ropes freeing Izax’s slaves.

- She decided to take them under her wing, probably persuaded by Chirikyât, others thought.

- Impressed not only by Lakqâ’s abilities but also his courage and determination, Aivela asked him to stay with her. She’d take him to the Palace of the Eternal Dragons, provide with equipment of his choosing and name him her honoured guard.

- At first, he found himself surprised with her offer - he wasn’t a trained warrior after all. Iviluann and him were about to get married. He loved didn’t want to leave her. He didn’t want to dissapoint Aivela either. He had a deep respect for her. He admired her for her wit and wisdom, especially after the latest events.

- Ivi loved him as well. She couldn’t, however, ask him to stay. She couldn’t ask him to abandon all his dreams and ambitions for her. How selfish would that be?

- Lakqâ gave the sword back as he could no longer wield it in her honour. He still seems reluctant about his decision. Iviluann tried to reassure him. She asked him not to fear, ever. She asked him to live his life without worries and stay alive so that one day tell, he’ll tell her of all the glorious battles he’d won. She smiled and kissed him goodbye.

- Upon his arrival to the palace, Lakqâ’s sworn an oath to Aivela. He’d guard her legacy, fight for her and give his life for her becoming her most loyal and devoted servant.

- She trusted him more than any other of her followers. She used to share most of her secrets and plans with him knowing that unlike the Massassi warriors, he had little to no interests in politics or personal glory.

- People started calling him Taral - “He, who protects”.

- In the meantime, Chirikyât began smuggling out Izax’s slaves. He’d bring them to his lover, knowing she’d offer them the same help she has once offered him. Aivela assigned some of them to Lakqâ. He was to train and later command them.

- He was the first to learn about Aivela and her lover’s plans on overthrowing Izax.

- Taral followed her to the war and fought by her side until the day of her death.

- It was a huge breaking point for him. He truly believed she was the only chance to change their world. She was different, willing to discuss things, she never abused her power. She used it to improve their people’s lives, instead. But now she was dead and he wasn’t there to save her. He’s broken an oath and deserved to die as well.

- Shortly after Aivela’s death and Chirikyât’s disappearance, Izax launched an attack on Medriaas. Lakqâ gathered a group of his most loyal soldiers and returned to Medriaas to save as many people as he could.

- He knew they probably weren’t going to live through the attack - they stood no chance against Izax’s power - yet, if there was still a way to help, he was willing to try. Aivela would have wanted him to.

- By the time they reached Medriaas, most of the people have already been slain. Lakqâ hid the survivors in a nearby cave, hoping the battle would soon stop as he didn’t have enough men to fight their way through.

- Iviluann was among the refugees. She and her newborn daughter. Her husband was killed back in the village.

- They didn’t talk much. Ivi noticed Lakqâ’s grown his hair and commented on his new title. He promised to keep them safe and get them out of Medriaas alive.

- The battle wasn’t coming to an end. Izax had the upper hand, but the lower-caste sith, mostly slaves, kept fighting like mad, calling out Chirikyât, begging for his blessing. Yet he did not answer. He tricked them into war and then abandoned them all, even Aivela, like a coward.

- Seeing that they had no chance to win in a direct fight, Aivela’s lover decided to sacrifice his people on Medriaas, hoping that cutting this entire world off from the Force would stop or even kill Izax.

- Chirikyât didn’t realise the consequences would not only affect the force sensitives on the surface, but the entire life of the planet.

- Izax’s power took a great hit but there was no way to confirm his death. Most of the force users who happened to be near Medriaas at the time either died or fell unconscious with little chance of waking up.

- Some time later, groups of fanatics and Izax’s followers started scavenging Medriaas, currently known as Nathema. They were hunting down all the possible survivors, claiming to be working on Izax’s orders.

- Meanwhile, Lakqâ, Iviluann and two of his warriors managed to survive the planet’s destruction. There was no way to escape - neither the place nor Izax’s assassins - and the supplies were running low.

- Taral ordered his men to try and search the area, otherwise they were all facing certain death. The soldiers never came back.

- By this time, Lakqâ’s lost all hope. Taral, they called him. The one who protects. He’s broken this promise in every way possible. He couldn’t save Aivela, he couldn’t save his people, not even the refugees, not even his love’s child. And he knew he won’t be able to save Iviluann, either. Once a name he carried with pride, now sounded like a mockery.

- He’d stay up all night watching for the assassins. He didnt need sleep. He gave all of their remaining food to Ivi, he didn’t need it either. He didnt need anything, anymore. All he wanted was her survival though there were times, he wished Izax’s soldiers found them and gave them a swift death. He CRAVED death. Of all the people, why was he the one to survive, he wondered, why did the Gods keep him alive? Perhaps, it was Aivela herself who shielded him from the blast. Perhaps, she wanted him to suffer. He believed it was her way of punishing him. And as an ever faithful servant, he chose to endure her punishment.

- Lakqâ’s warriors have been captured and tortured by the Nathema Zealots. One of them revealed their hideout location.

- A group of Zealots attacked out of nowhere. Lakqâ stood no chance, there were too many of them. He noticed Iviluann lying on the ground, bleeding. He tried to carry her somewhere safe. Unable to defend against the opponents, he was badly wounded - hence the scars on his back.

- Lakqâ crawled to Ivi, he knew this was over. His wounds must have been fatal. She was no longer able to speak, shaking and choking from time to time. He took her body in his arms and apologised. He kept apologising, trying to hold back his tears. This was the first time he couldn’t.

- He survived the Zealots attack. He planned to stay on Nathema for the rest of his life living as a hermit, serving his sentence and honouring Aivela’s legacy as the last of the Pureblood Sith.

- Years later, the Alliance arrived on Nathema. Reluctant at first, he helped them find their way into the Sanitarium.

- As much as he wanted a revenge on Valkorion, he refused to join them in their future efforts against him.

- He’s decided to trust Cithar once again and support him in the upcoming war.

OTHER INFO

- Although he’s force sensitive, he’s never received any formal training. He had an opportunity to change it after becoming Aivela’s servant and refused. He did pick up some tricks during his time in the Palace of the Eternal Dragons but that was all. He’d rather leave such matters to Gods or at least those possessing more skill. A sharp sword was enough for him.

- The word painted on his shield, “pain-coddled” - Iviluann called him that after he gave up on his own happiness only to serve Aivela. She knew he won’t find joy there, even though he’ll be coddled and spoiled with riches.

[yjk-imagines]

Jungle Flower (Jacen Solo x Reader)

“I’ve got you. Breathe, okay? I’ve got you.”

Requests are open for the Young Jedi Knights! Romantic, platonic, group, or otherwise!

You wrapped your hands around the sticky vine as you peered over the edge. The branch of the stone-colored Massassi tree provided a sure foundation that you weren't ready to leap off of quite yet.

The ridiculous grin of Jacen Solo, however, didn't seem to understand your fear. Of course he didn't. A Jedi wasn't supposed to feel fear. They ate fear for breakfast.

"Well, friend (Y/N), are you ready?" Tenel Ka interrupted your self-pep-talk.

"Um, maybe not?" You said, "I think I might join Lusa on the ground."

Jaina, Jacen's twin, shrugged. She held out her arm to Tenel Ka, who shrugged, and wrapped her one good arm through Jaina's. In unison, they promptly stepped off the edge of the branch.

"Did they grab the vine?" You asked, terrified.

Lowbacca barked a negative, you knew enough shriiwook to interpret that without the help of the translator droid. The rest of you looked over the edge to see the two girls sliding down the vine to a spot where several clusters of vines were growing.

"Good one Jaina!" Jacen called into the jungle.

You shook your head. Solos were just as crazy as the holos said they were.

Lowie leaped for another branch, leaving Jacen pulling down a fresh vine.

"You sure you don't want a turn?" he spread his legs, searching for his target landing a few branches away.

"I'm fine. Besides, Jaina took my vine," You shrugged.

"Pfft," Jacen made a noise like one of his monkey spiders when they were full. "If one vine can hold Jaina and TK, one vine can hold you and me."

You flushed at the idea, clinging to Jacen for dear life in the humid, sweaty jungle a thousand feet above the ground?

There was merit in the idea, but only a little bit.

"Okay fine," You sighed.

Jacen grinned that Solo grin that made half of the sentients at the Academy melt into the floor, and you found your hands once more around the vine, and Jacen's soothing voice in your ear.

“I’ve got you. Breathe, okay? I’ve got you.”

Typically, his voice was full of mischief that made you think several times before implicitly trusting him, but at this moment, his voice was full of sincerity. He could definitely sense your fear.

One of Jacen's arms wrapped tightly around your waist, and the other just above yours on the vine. He gave it a quick tug.

"Alright, that should be steady. You ready?"

"Yes," You said, not wanting to give away any more of your emotions than you already had.

Jacen grinned again, and pushed off the branch.

All at once, you were flying through the air. The wind blew past your face, taking flashes of greens and yellows with it. You couldn't even tell where the ground was. There was only your death grip on the vine, and Jacen's arm around you.

All at once you came in contact with the next branch, tripping over your feet as you struggled to land, and then Jacen was on top of you.

Jacen himself hardly seemed to notice, as he was shaking with laughter. "That was awesome, (Y/N)! Didn't I tell you it would be great?"

You laughed shakily. "Yeah, yeah, I guess it was great!"

Jacen pushed himself up on his feet, "Come on, let's find the next vine!"

You sat up, trying to catch your breath while Jacen tried to find another, more suitable vine. Below, there was the rustling of leaves as Jaina and Tenel Ka raced each other through the trees. Up ahead, Lowie bellowed a challenge, and you had to laugh.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Come see what I found!" Jacen called you over to the corner where your branch met the trunk of the tree.

You sighed, and pushed yourself up to your feet. Your arms were terribly sore from carrying your bodyweight and part of Jacen's.

"Jacen, if it's another creature, I am not helping you carry a mudhopper back to the temple-"

There, at Jacen's feet, grew a bright, yellow flower, on a bed of the tree's leaves.

Jacen carefully snapped off the bud and inhaled the pungent scent. "This is incredible!" He sighed happily.

"What's it called?" You asked.

Jacen shrugged. "I dunno, but I can find out back at the temple!"

He patted down his jumpsuit, but failed to find a pocket that wasn't already bursting with rocks, dirt, or other curious flora.

Jacen frowned. He was cute when he frowned.

And then he did something even cuter, and slipped the flower behind your ear.

He grinned again. "It brings out the gold in your eyes!"

You flushed again, and it didn't help that somewhere below you, Jaina was calling for her idiot brother.

"We're coming, Jaya!" He shouted, yanking down another vine.

"You ready, (Y/N)?" He held out his hand, and without waiting for you to reply, he leaped off the branch, and the two of you plummeted into the forest below.

[swtorpadawan]

Master Sulan & The Lie of ‘Sith Genocide’

I’ve seen many references - on Tumblr and elsewhere - that the Jedi have committed “genocide” against the Sith thousands of years ago, and so the Sith are justified wiping out the Jedi, destroying the Republic... and enslaving everyone else... as a means of self-defense. 

In a word : No. In three words: No, no, no.

As an Order, the Jedi do not perpetuate genocide. There are countless examples in the EU where the Order has had the opportunity to indiscriminately kill dark-side groups and factions. They don’t do that. The Massassi on Yavin are enjoying a perfectly viable existence, and there’s no evidence the Jedi went after them. The Nekghouls on Taris (see above) were basically forged from Sith alchemy; yet they are not targeted for death. The Nightmare Lands on Voss are incredibly Dark-side, but there’s no evidence the Jedi are doing anything more than surveying what the heck is happening there. And there are many other examples. 

Yes, of course, there are individual examples of Jedi losing all sense of perspective. Ass-hats lite Jaric Kaedan, who spent a lifetime fighting the Sith and who - perhaps inevitably - reached the wrong conclusion. 

That’s what war does to people. And it is wrong, but it is not the norm.

Satele Shan - and the Jedi in general - do not call for the extermination of dark-siders. Gnost-Dural has a delightful conversation in Onslaught with Lana Beniko that is oh so much fun. And Master Sulan actively teaches the Nekghouls that there are better ways of learning than indiscriminate slaughter. 

Yes, Sulan fails, here. His Nekghouls abandon him when he loses. And in the default scenario, he dies.  But this is not genocide. This is not persecution. This is not what the anti-Jedi propagandists would have you believe of the Jedi teachings. 

Deciding that “in my point of view, the Jedi are evil!” might be an “edgy” position to take, but it is not supported by 95% of the content. 

[fluffynexu]

Mardur

Considered the Sith god of strength, overcoming obstacles, and protector of the Massassi. As a god he takes the form of a mowhef-headed Sith, but he started out as a mortal born to a Massassi mother and Kissai father. Throughout his life he accomplished many feats, seven of which became the factors that granted him divinity.

The seven wondrous feats of Mardur are:

Taming Dyaltir, a near mythical kâchem

Slaying the Vardinian Mowhef

Removing Hatush Peak from the Tamai Mountain Range

Holding off the armies of Qorashum

Banishing the Skittering Serpent

Fighting the sphinx twins of Bashara

Tricking and entrapping Death

It was after the last feat when Mardur was granted immortality and a place among the gods if he freed Death. (The other gods needed Death to roam and do her duty.)

Mardur also brought Dyaltir, his loyal steed and companion, with him when he ascended into godhood.

Dyaltir was given wind beneath his hooves so that Mardur could ride through the realms as he pleased.

Unlike many gods, Mardur did not require or demand any physical offerings. Instead his followers would gain his blessings through their own actions of strength.

Originally, Mardur was almost exclusively worshiped by the Massassi. But his influence spread into the higher Kissai caste over the many years of the two groups living and working closely together. After the arrival of the Exiles, many of the old practices have been absorbed and altered into the wider Imperial culture.

The most prominent example is the celebration of the End Year Games. It’s a three week long celebration with the final day occurring on New Year’s Eve. Mardur has also been transformed into a figure of old folklore, riding through the cosmos on Dyaltir and handing out gifts to those who have “proven themselves”.

Another instance of Mardur’s enduring presence in the modern Empire is the showcase of giant statues depicting his 7 feats at the front of the Warriors’ Temple in Qoshrajakzândor, also known as the Scarlet District. To a lesser extent the phrase “a Mardurian feat” is used in Imperial vernacular to signify achieving something of greatness.

super special thanks to @thegarbagechute for this incredible art! *0* it seriously could not be more perfect!!!

in case it wasn’t obvious, he’s like the sith version of gilgamesh/cu chulainn/hercules/beowulf/sun wukong/The Strong Hero Guy that so many cultures have.

the end year games is like... olympics + christmas, but... not really? i didn’t want to get into that here. so he’s also part... “sith-santa” lol.

also the statues in tomato town would be like these

except bigger, with clothes on, and different things being done by a sith dude lol.

[fuckyeahrebelfinn]

@captainamericagf

Amanda I wanted to clear upa few things about IX’s shooting and John’s post ect and it’s going to be too damn long for your inbox, so here’s to hoping tumblr’s tagging decides to work.

(Also @vaderey)

Re: the tag FN2187 on John’s photo. 

I’m sorry to say that that “only” signifies that it’s about Finn. John is a very inconsistent tagger who rarely tags at all and only at times where he finds whatever tag very central to the post. FN2187 have been his go to tag for Finn since TFA came out, probably because it’s the only truly unique identifier for Finn. If he just tagged #Finn it would drown in the thousands upon thousands of other Finns on Instagram, but there’s only one FN-2187.

So I hate to rain on everyone’s theories about a Stormtrooper uprising - including my own - but all that means is that whatever badassery was going on Finn was central to it, but with no indication of what kind of badassery it was.

Finn’s injuries:

As for the lack of plasma burns indicating anything can I just remind everyone that lightsaber injury to hands tend to result in not plasma burns but lost hands?

I mean look at all the plasma burns that Luke got in his duel with Vader at Cloud City?

Oh wait, that’s more cuts and bruises because Vader was throwing shit at him. Not to mention all we’ve seen was John’s hands. Nice jumping to conclusions there Anon.

Finally I have a very hard time seeing John being excited for a scene that kills off Finn. Not to mention, they’re nearly done shooting and given JJ’s preference for shooting as chronologically as possible this is likely something at the end of the movie. That John is still this excited about it all makes it look like IX might treat Finn well. Obviously nothing is certain and JJ may still end up butchering Finn’s storyline as much as Rian did, but that John even dares to display this level of confidence this late in the game make it seem to me that we may get an Episode IX that’s worth watching.

Re: Yavin IV.

Here people are really beginning to pass of complete speculations as facts :/

Yes IX is currently shooting at Cardington Air Sheds which was used as the sound stage for the Rebel base in both ANH and RO because it’s the biggest damned sounds stage in the UK and they needed the cavernous feel of the big interior of the Massassi temple. All them being at Cardington means it that they need a huge freaking sound stage, which given that all we’ve heard is that the sake on IX is massive doesn’t sound unlikely for say a really big battle.

Also the shooting at Cardington is done by Vic which means it’s scenery shoots or big battle panoramas, which again fits with the only named actor being spotted at Cardington being Joonas, the Finnish guy who’s inside Chewie.

And everything we’ve heard from Kevin Smith’s visit to the IX set as well as a goodly assortment of rumors says that IX is huge even for Star Wars, that we’re looking at something at a heretofore unprecedented scale. So big panorama shots and overviews of a gigantic ground battle does not sound implausible. It may or may not involve Yavin but we don’t know either way, personally I think it doesn’t and it’s all about size :P (for once).

Re: Rose and Loan.

This one is purely on that Anon leaping to the assumption that she’s not important, especially as John said “the entire crew” and they automatically assumed that wouldn’t include her. I know there’s not been much reports on her, but lets be real it’s because both fandom and media couldn’t care less about her or any of the characters of color. Come on, the only reason we occasionally hear anything about John is that he’s the only one still on social media apart from Mark (who for the record appears to have a minuscule role in IX) because media and fandom could on the whole not give fewer shits about anyone who isn’t Rey or Kylo.

That said I finally managed to dig out a good source of info on Loan and her movements on twitter (for those interested it’s named @dailytranloan). Between that and my own Googlemancy this is what it looks like:

Loan was spotted on multiple occasions in London in August and September, i.e. while IX was shooting at Pinewood. She drops out of sight about the time where the shooting moved to Wadi Rum but we have no clue if she went with them or not. She was only spotted in London once after the return of the shooting to England and New Year, but have been confirmed seen (photo evidence) three times between New Year and today. 

So it looks like Rose may have a much bigger role in IX than anyone suspected and that she’s making it all the way to the end and beyond it.

I think that covers most of the things your anons have been throwing at you.

tl;dr John have been excited about IX since they started shooting, in fact before they started and his excitement and enthusiasm have only gone one way, up. If people are disinclined to trust him I’m not going to argue with them further but I’m beginning to believe that all those doomsday anons are not all in good faith and that a certain group of someones have begun trolling because it’s becoming increasingly clear that Finn is going to be the male lead in IX and be treated as such by the story. Which spells nothing but doom and judgement for a certain other character and we know how much they all only tolerate Finn when he’s safely ensconced as a side character.

I understand being worried about IX, damn bitch me too, but this constant cry of doom when we get something positive rings false to me.

Personally I’m going to take John’s word on it unless we get solid indications otherwise.

~Mod Mara

[dgcatanisiri]

So... Let’s see how this works. We’ll adjust the format as needed if this doesn’t work, but hey, here we go.

Welcome to DG’s Listing of Wish These DLC Existed, where I theorize, speculate, and just kinda generally throw ideas at the wall about DLCs for games I love that never happened and never will happen, but damn, I’d like to see them anyway. 

Because I have ideas, I can’t get them made as mods, I don’t have time to make them into fic, and they’re never going to happen anyway, so why not put them up in a public place? After all, they’re tie ins to games I have no control over anyway, so it’s not like I’ll ever make money off of them anyway.

Our first installment takes a look at Star Wars - Knights of the Old Republic. Obviously, as this game predates the modern DLC model (there was the Yavin market, but that was maybe a grand total of ten minutes tops of content, if we’re generous), so there are some awkwardnesses involved in making DLC for this - if nothing else, when the game ends, it ends, to keep playing, you have to start a new character. On another, there’s the level cap, stopping our leveling up after hitting Level 20. As the game presently exists, that should happen after being locked into the endgame combo of the Unknown World/Star Forge, but adding more content means that cap gets hit sooner. 

So understand that we’re assuming that there is the ability to play post-game and a higher level cap, as well as other quality of life style additions (in this case, probably among them are various additions from KOTOR 2, but that’s a subject for another day). I’m also willing to assume that there is content for characters (even if the respective voice actors have passed, retired, or just wouldn’t return), in the same style as modern games. The assumption here is that these DLC ideas would have been written, produced, and published during the active production cycle of the respective games.

As this is the inaugural edition, let me explain the format. There will be a name for the DLC, a brief synopsis, a reference to when this hypothetical DLC would become available/if and when it becomes unavailable (unless it’s part of a hardwired point, like the above mentioned point of no return of travelling to the Unknown World, as an example), and then an expansion/write up of the ideas going in to them. Some ideas will have more expansion than others, because I’ve just plainly put more thought into them - in a lot of cases, I wrote them down just on the basis of ‘this idea seems pretty cool,’ and then gave them more context later on.

And a further note - I reserve the right to come up with more ideas for any given game that I have already written up, naturally. I haven’t decided how I’ll handle that yet, but it’s entirely possible there will later be more ideas.

Okay, housekeeping matters out of the way, let’s get down to business!

The Yavin Excursion

Yavin 4 was the site of Sith Lord Exar Kun’s power base. In understanding more about him and his fall, the Jedi Council believe it may be able to shed light on the fall of Revan and Malak. But the secrets of the Massassi temples hold more than just the ghosts of the past, but a threat for the present...

(Available after Dantooine)

Tack this on to the existing content of the market in orbit of Yavin, I suppose. But the connection to the Tales of the Jedi comic seems like a good starting point here – investigate one Sith Lord to examine the motivations of another, find out why the first guy fell to the dark side, which will hopefully explain why the other guys did.

I see this as both a lore exercise – to offer the players more exploration of this era, considering that the Tales of the Jedi comics have been harder to come by as time as gone on, so allowing some more in depth portrayals of the time – and a chance to kind of approach the question of what drives someone to the dark side. Exar Kun fell by an overwhelming curiosity, Ulic Qel-Droma, his apprentice, fell by a desire for revenge, and later lost his connection to the Force (put a pin in that fact – we’ll be back to that come the DLC for KOTOR 2). Millennia later, Anakin Skywalker falls because of his fear of the loss of those he loves. Two of these people were redeemed, one refused to give up his power.

If anything, this would be a good chance for some foreshadowing of Bastila’s eventual fall (so perhaps this would be locked to before the Leviathan catches the Ebon Hawk), on top of asking the question that later drives KOTOR 2 – what were Revan’s motivations in turning to the dark side? Obviously, this is up in the air from a character perspective (and, honestly, so far as I care, from the player’s too, because I despise the whole “the Sith Emperor warped their minds” BS, and I’m ready and willing to disregard it, even in acknowledging The Old Republic). The first KOTOR never really focuses on the why of Revan’s fall, since Malak is the game’s big bad, and the Revan reveal is a plot twist – since this is DLC, the player would probably be expected to know it going in, so why not explore that, right?

As for what this threat is... I’m a little shakier on this. I’m thinking a Massassi warrior/beast of some kind, the same kind of Sith alchemical abomination we see in the terantatek or hssiss, only a much more powerful end boss kind of thing, a living relic of Exar Kun’s evil (given that, canonically, Exar Kun’s spirit survived to the Jedi Academy novel trilogy, he certainly can’t be the final boss), perhaps fed and kept alive by the powers of the remaining Massassi who worshipped Exar Kun as a god – in this case, looking to take advantage of the Ebon Hawk’s arrival to spread their master’s will across the galaxy and speed his return. Sith alchemy played a part in a lot of the Sith portrayals from this timeframe, and it’s kind of disappointing that KOTOR never really utilized these mutants, just had them as mindless high level bosses.

Vector

The rakghoul plague infested the lower levels of the planet of Taris. When the planet was bombed by the Sith, it managed to escape among the many refugees as well. With their experiences on Taris, facing the rakghouls, the Jedi Council sends the crew of the Ebon Hawk to investigate its spread to the planet Ralltiir – and stop the Sith from obtaining it as a weapon!

(Available after Dantooine)

The rakghouls were just kind of dropped into KOTOR with no explanation – they were a threat as a creature and as a plague in the Undercity of Taris, but no one ever spoke about what the plague’s origins were or where the rakghouls came from. And then along came the Vector mini-series of comics (hence the name for this) that put the creation of the rakghouls down to a Sith Lord, Karness Murr. Sith alchemy, the gift that keeps on giving.

But either way, considering that the rakghoul plague is something that even the Upper City of Taris was concerned about, that clearly says that it could easily have gotten off planet, especially in the panic of the evacuation. And really, with the added knowledge that this was originally Sith alchemy, it’s almost certain that some aspiring Sith would discover this and try to twist it to their advantage.

I pretty much pulled Ralltiir’s name out of a hat, primarily because it’s a fairly common named planet, but with little actually associated with it. It also makes a great place where the Republic would demand an immediate concern, because it’s a Core World and an economic hub. It’s a great place to have a plague that Republic heads would say would draw in the Ebon Hawk, whose crew had familiarity with the rakghoul plague, despite the threat of Malak and the search for the Star Maps.

I also see this as a way to give Mission and Juhani more content – Mission is a hard character for me to really justify remaining with the crew after Taris, given that she’s a teenager, I feel VERY uncomfortable taking her around on what is effectively a commando mission, while Juhani was very nearly hacked out of the game. Both of them grew up on Taris, in the lower levels of the planetary city, where the rakghouls aren’t just a distant threat. So give them this additional portrayal and focus because they’re familiar with the plague, maybe even knew some people who were infected and transformed by it.

The villain would be a Jedi-turned-Sith, someone who had turned to the Sith at some point after being a Jedi historian. A part of me wants to draw on one of the Jedi who would later show up in the Exile’s vision on Korriban, mostly because those were the Jedi we see recruited by Malak, and so less aware of Revan’s face, though that seems a touch much. Regardless, they’d previously acted as a historian, and is driven by the potential power of the rakghoul plague – Muur’s talisman is lost by this point (again, see the comics), but the rakghouls themselves remain, and, while I’m ignoring the whole “the Sith Emperor did it” thing with Revan, I also like the concept of the rakghouls evolving into the nekghouls, gaining sentience.

This is also a way to add a little bit more of a question to the results – do these evolved rakghouls deserve the consideration of being considered more than mindless beasts? Are they at all a continuation of the person they once were? Or are they just violent creatures that need to be put down? Is the guy trying to control them being corrupted by the dark side, or was he always evil?

So the central question here would be asking “what makes a monster?” Is it the mindless savagery of beasts, or the knowing cruelty of intelligent beings, and where is that line?

Sleheyron

The volcanic world of Sleheyron holds a Star Map. The Ebon Hawk and her crew set out to discover the secrets hidden there, but must be cautious, for the planet also holds a group of Darth Malak’s most powerful apprentices, who have, in their isolation from their leader, created their own plan for the fall of the Republic...

(Available after Dantooine)

Sleheyron was planned to be part of the hunt for the Star Maps – six environments are described in the Rakatan ruin on Dantooine, the life-giving worlds (oceanic – Manaan, grassland – Dantooine, arboreal – Kashyyyk) and death-giving worlds (desert – Tatooine, volcanic, barren – Korriban). Sleheyron was the volcanic world, but got cut for time, early enough that there really wasn’t a lot of material that made it out, with the planet just becoming part of Yuthura Ban’s back story. So, hey, free reign to develop something here.

Honestly, one of my big questions is, if Malak was with Revan as they travelled the worlds to find the Star Maps, why doesn’t he do something about the fact that these locations led to the big secret weapon that gives the Sith Empire its power and forces? Wouldn’t he have thought that maybe some form of guard or another would be a good idea? Sure, the Korriban one was guarded by virtue of being in the tomb of Naga Sadow, but the others? Here, we get a chance to have a group of Sith having taken control of this planet where there is a Star Map that can add to what our heroes have assembled (but, being DLC, this isn’t required to take on). They’re specifically there to guard the Map.

This becomes a bit of a game of cat and mouse – how to act before the Sith apprentices (probably former Jedi themselves) can find them, capture or kill them, hand them off to Malak. (Probably also means that this should be a later stage planet to visit, but hey, player choice of direction, right?) How do these Jedi move around a planet while the people in charge are out to get them? Draw on the mechanic from KOTOR 2, where the people on Dantooine recognize if the Exile goes there while a lightsaber is equipped, maybe.

Actually, I’d like to see some mechanic that tracks how much the player uses the Force while wandering around – the more they use the Force, or the more powerful the Force effects they use, the more likely they are to summon Sith execution squads or something. Sort of like KOTOR 2 and Nar Shaddaa, where the Exile’s actions drew the attention of the Exchange and Visquis, only in reverse – the player and company need to avoid catching the attention of the Sith until they’ve raised a rebellion against the Sith overlords, or at least gained enough public goodwill that the Sith can’t just openly take them away and execute them, something like that.

I like this idea because it allows an opportunity to play more with non-violent approaches, alternatives that aren’t “murder everyone because combat gives more experience!” Here, the idea is that you WANT to fly under the radar, avoid combat. And, if combat happens, you also have incentive to not use the lightsaber for a stretch – gives players a reason to put points into blasters or non-lightsaber melee combat, because I don’t know about anyone else, but the second I get a lightsaber in these games, I don’t ever use a different weapon. Here, the player is in the position of HAVING to switch up their play style, or, if they don’t, have to be that much more cautious in their actions here. This is a story piece that hinges on what you do with your words.

The ultimate confrontation with the Sith and the Star Map, in my mind, takes place in a cavern of an active volcano (or maybe one that has been dormant, but, because what’s the Sith without random acts of evilly evil, they’re managing to coax back to life). Here’s where there’s a pretty big question in the construction of this DLC – are we working in the confines of the game engine of the time or with newer, more modern systems? Cuz I’d kinda like something that took place within the volcanic areas of the planet, given that’s what the planet is described as. But I don’t think that KOTOR’s original engine would really be able to explore that to its fullest, given the limitations on it. My big idea would be to have the climax of the planet’s arc have the threat of a volcanic eruption, potentially with the base of operations for these Sith being flooded by lava.

If that is an engine limit... I really have no idea what the alternative would be, but, hey, since this is pie in the sky as it is, why not call for the engine advancement that lets it be a thing, where we have to outrun a lava flow or something.

Echoes of the Past

The strike team that fought Revan is being targeted by Malak’s assassins. The crew of the Ebon Hawk take a journey to the graveyard of the attack on Revan’s ship, the battle that led to the defeat of the dark lord. But the dead don’t rest easy, especially amongst the ruins of the Sith Lord’s vessel...

(Available after the Leviathan)

The strike team that captured Revan is kinda the forgotten element of the game as is. This is a team, and yet we only hear about Bastila’s involvement. Which, sure, she is the member on our squad, she does have the Force Bond with Revan, but... Who were the others? Where have they been during the war?

And it seems like Malak would think of them as a threat period – they were the Jedi who were there to face off against Revan, the Jedi thought they’d have a chance against this great Sith Lord, the leader of the Sith forces of the time. But Bastila is the only one the game ever concerns itself with, and doesn’t even mention if the others lived, who they were, why they were chosen... None of that.

So here we get to explore them. The added bonus is that I see this as a post-Leviathan mission, one that we play with full awareness of our player character’s identity. How much of that awareness we pass on is one thing, and it really allows us to explore the idea “who was Revan before, who is Revan now?” Because that’s going to come into play when dealing with the people who were at one point sent in to kill Revan – sent to kill us, the player character.

I also like the set piece idea of a graveyard of ships, where the characters are walking through the husks of dead vessels – the Harbinger sequence in KOTOR 2 is still a favorite of mine. Granted, this would probably be a bit of a conceptual retread of that part of that game, but hey, why not get some variation of the same old gameplay, right? Plus, it’s different here for the fact that this will have some personal connection to Revan – this was their ship. Did they consider it a home? Just a place?

That leads to the bigger plot element, though. These Jedi know Revan as a threat. They’re going to be suspicious of Revan the whole way through – “are you the Jedi the Council thought you to have become, or are you the Sith we were once sent to kill?” Like I’m sorta thinking this is a case where we’d get these teammates as companions proper now that I’m considering this in detail, and this all builds to the main confrontation. Like we wouldn’t take our Ebon Hawk buddies on this one, but two of these guys.

That confrontation would involve the assassins being revealed to be loyalists to Darth Revan, with their mission having begun with attempting to avenge their fallen Lord, but now, with Revan returned to them, having tested their skill over the course of their luring Revan back to them, they are willing to take up their banner once more, leading to the choice – be Revan, the Sith Lord, or Revan, the Prodigal Knight.

And yes, I know, this is the same thing we see with Bastila later. In some ways, that’s the point. Choosing the light or the dark is not one you make once and are one that path forever. It is a constant, repeated choice, one that must be made, again and again. It’s something that has to been affirmed and reaffirmed, because it will always come up again. Here, it’s just “we offer you power and loyal servants,” while Bastila has the offer of their Force bond – hell, if this were real DLC, I’d say patch in some element to the endgame of Bastila trying to use their bond to lure Revan over to her side on top of things.

What Remains

Darth Malak’s assault on Dantooine was meant to destroy the Jedi. The Ebon Hawk is the one ship that might be able to break the Sith blockade and rescue the people trapped behind their lines, as well as recover irreplaceable Jedi artifacts hidden away at the enclave. And Revan has a need to confront the Jedi Council...

(Available after Leviathan)

This one has always been in my mind as something that, in many ways, we needed to see happen. I look at this as being the necessary confrontation with the Jedi Masters that we need, because they’re using Revan. Revan was reprogrammed to be their weapon against the Sith, and what exactly were they going to do if and when the war was over and they’d no longer had need of Revan?

A mission to Dantooine, done by the ship that could escape the blockade of Taris, to attempt to rescue and recover the Jedi, break the people there out of the iron grip of the Sith, at first does seem somewhat at odds with the portrayal of Dantooine in KOTOR 2, but it still makes sense if you think of the first priority being to evacuate the Jedi and the relics they were saving – the Jedi become the reason that any rescue comes, not the people stuck there. The Jedi and their artifacts are prioritized over the people now under the thumb of the Sith.

Especially if the only real encounter we have is with the Jedi themselves, seeing them in the midst of their exodus, dealing with the Sith occupiers and executioners, all of whom would have once had friends here – I see this also including a Republic military outpost to Dantooine prior to the attack there, because there honestly should have been one anyway (this I chalk up as much to the more limited engine of the game as anything else), and that providing some extra characters to events, which makes it all the more devastating having their former comrades in arms now there to kill them.

As much as this is about confronting the Jedi for the way that they intended to use Revan, this is also an exploration of the divide of Republic and Sith, that those now calling themselves Sith were once the best and brightest of the Republic. Yes, the Jedi failed to come to the aid of the Republic in the midst of the war, but that doesn’t explain the violence these former soldiers engage in against their own people. What made the rank and file Sith soldier agree to this?

That examination of motivation would, I feel, be a part of why the resulting confrontation with the Jedi would matter so much – what drove Revan? What drove the Sith? What drove the Jedi? Because they mindwiped Revan and implanted them with a personality to use them as a weapon. They didn’t “turn an enemy to their cause.” They violated Revan in an effort to use them. When the war was over, what did they really think would happen?

Specifically, we need to confront Zhar, who, given Kreia’s utter disdain for him in KOTOR 2, I get the impression that he was the major proponent of this idea. His actions may have been justified as “for the greater good,” but it always seems like the greatest of morally questionable actions are justified with those words. Do we confront him with rage, forgiveness, or... something else? Because this is a case where I can see both condemning him to death and condemning him to live as a punishment. I could even see this being a case of him bowing to Revan’s judgment, and no option having a light side/dark side shift, because this isn’t about the Force. This is about justice.

Whether or not the Jedi admit it, a life was taken the day they implanted a personality into Revan’s body. The Jedi need to be called out and recognize that they do not have clean hands after what they’ve done.

Revan’s Shadow

Although Revan’s legacy, the Star Forge and the Sith army, have been defeated, there are still questions of Revan’s journey. There was more to it than Star Maps. The crew of the Ebon Hawk reunite on the planet Belkadan to find out more of the Rakatan Empire, and its ties to the dark side of the Force. And along the way, Revan will find more of their lost past...

(Post-Game)

The fact is, we get very little of Revan in the game proper, little about who they were as a person before the fall. This is conceptually to hide the fact that the player IS Revan, of course, but... It creates a lot of little issues for me – I mean, like half of these prospective DLCs are about expanding something of Revan’s motives and past. Obviously, this is a blank slate for the player, because they wanted to leave this open for us to decide, but they DID make a few definitions of who Revan was with the existing content, with the case of the Star Map on Kashyyyk.

And for me, personal identity is a big lingering question for this character – again, I’m choosing to ignore the handling of Revan as a character in The Old Republic, and I’m gonna include the tie-in novel in that, so no one is allowed to say “the novel said [x]!”

This is someone whose entire concept of who they are is in question once they learn that they are a constructed self, created by the Jedi Council as a weapon. Who ARE they? Who have they chosen to be, and, if they could reclaim the parts of themselves that they lost with the Jedi’s mind wipe, would they? Obviously, there’s no time in the main plot to focus on these questions, but I feel like this would eat at them afterwards, leading them to having to find answers. And what kind of friends would the others be if they let Revan do this alone?

I picked Belkadan pretty much because it’s an out of the way planet that has been identified as part of the Rakata’s Infinite Empire, so it made as much sense as any planet to be the site of this. I mean, the involvement of the Infinite Empire is certainly a good option for a place that questions who Revan is.

This would be a place where Revan had gone, after the Mandalorian Wars, a place where they were trying to connect to the Force, to understand the questions – why did the Jedi Council believe they shouldn’t be involved in an existential threat? Why is Revan drawn to these Star Maps and the destination they point to? What awaits them if they go, and what will change about them? What answers are to be found in asking an energy field that can offer no direct response?

Obviously, I’m thinking in terms of finding recordings of Revan, so requiring a voice for Revan – Rino Romano did the little soundbites when male Revan interacts with things, while I don’t know who did the voice bites for female Revan, so they’d be options, or new VA’s altogether. While part of me does want to go forward and make Revan a fully voiced protagonist (because I’m just used to that nowadays), I could accept this as being something only for old!Revan, not present!Revan.

The idea is simply to explore the driving motivations of Revan and decide plainly who Revan wants to be now. I kinda see the ending reach a point of ‘hey, you can reclaim your old memories, you can decide what personality is dominant, what do you want?’ and Revan being able to choose who they will be from here on out.

This is also a good place to require at least Bastila and Carth. Obviously I’m kinda leaning more into the light side ending for this, but... Well, the dark side endings tend to be untenable for future content anyway – Revan as the reclaimed Sith Lord, leading the army against the Republic was never really a viable future, because the Republic had to survive. So yeah, we’re gonna take the easy route and assume light side here. So Bastila and Carth, as Revan romances, would also have a contribution to make, building on the questions of “I’m in love with the person who was Darth Revan, can I accept this?” Like I said, a lot of questions that the game sidestepped, and this one matters for the sake of the relationship being able to continue after the ending of the game.

The Rakatan Prize

The Unknown World – Rakata Prime, Lehon – has become a subject of a great many conversations. Now that the Star Forge is gone, the planet is accessible, and many are eager to investigate its mysteries and forgotten technology. Having had firsthand experience, the Republic has asked the crew of the Ebon Hawk to return...

(Post-Game)

And then, there’s the Rakata. Not that Star Wars isn’t full of ancient empires that rose and fell millennia ago, but this was KOTOR’s contribution. And really, they’re almost superfluous – hell, if the Unknown World were rewritten so that the Rakata had gone extinct, the only thing that really would be necessary would be finding a way into the temple. I kinda think that would even tighten things up a little, especially given how often I’ve hit the level cap before meeting the Council of Elders.

The Rakata are a mystery, and the idea here is to investigate that. Build up the whole element of the Rakata having lost their connection to the Force, and the fact that they’re trying to explore this (because we’re assuming light side against here and that the Elders survived, including the scientists investigating this).

Because this is one of those things that stands out in Star Wars lore, when beings are stripped of their Force connections. Ulic Qel-Droma, the Exile, this is something that is traditionally a case of an individual, not a species.

We also have the remains of a galactic empire to examine here. If a species once ruled the galaxy, it’s inevitable that there are those who would see that empire be reborn. The threat of this DLC becomes this group who aspire to reconquer the galaxy using the mind transfer technology that puts the Rakatan prisoner in that white space box that would allow them to trap the minds of Jedi and other Force users to take their bodies and use them to go forth and conquer the galaxy.

Ultimately, the question’s going to be whether or not to restore their connection to the Force – do the Rakata, a race of dominators of the galaxy, whose humbling by the forces of nature has not managed to truly change them, deserve a second chance, or should they have their attempt to restore their own connections to the Force wiped out, leaving them vulnerable to an inevitable extinction?

Because this is one of the big things with Revan, the idea of redemption, change, second chances. Does Revan extend this chance to these people, people who clearly have more than a few members who have no interest in peaceful coexistence? But if not, do they deserve to be condemned to extinction?

And, as a bonus...

Romance Content – Bisexual Carth, Bisexual Bastila, Gay Canderous, extended Juhani romance

Because Carth and Bastila should be bisexual, and Juhani’s romance deserves to be more proper. Meanwhile, Canderous should totally be an option as well, and yeah, I’m gonna be selfish here and say that he should be gay, rather than bi (because, again, I’m ignoring the novel, there is no wife). Because this means that there’s a favoring for same-sex romances, and that never happens. My list, my way. Star Wars is gay culture.

[pineaberry]

Self-Destruct

This is essentially a backstory for my new Jedi Consular (Vaakot) and Imperial Agent (Ara Cidran).

Warning: Death, slavery, mentions of mutilation

What happens when you break the rules and the Matriarch must execute justice.

The heavy rain pummeled the flagstones of the courtyard leading up to the manor’s massive wooden doors. A single hooded figure cut a path through the heavy drops and opened the entrance with the wave of her hand. The large building was unguarded, the heavy layer of dust betraying the fact that the manor had been abandoned a full year before. A single flickering light emitting from the study cut through the darkness. She pushed open the door and there was her brother, surrounded by tattered books and half-scribbled notes. She had hoped that after his lover’s death he would have taken time to mourn and spend time with his newborn child, but it was not to be.

He remained seated behind a large desk presumably absorbed within a tome of some ancient art, but Atrophine knew better. He was aware of her presence, they’d always been unusually close, even for siblings.

“Fallow, what have you done?” her rueful tone reverberated through the stone walls. The book slammed shut and durasteel gray eyes stared up at her defiantly.

“I did what I had to. I’ve claimed the birthright you denied me!”

“I can see through your borrowed words, Brother. I warned you Isaira’s ambition knew no bounds-”

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare speak her name! All she ever wanted was to be worthy of me. Everything she did was for me! To free me from your control!”

“I am not here to argue about your lover’s inferiority complex.”

“You would know all about inferior lovers. The entire House is keenly aware of your love for the military. Does he simper and grovel and beg prettily?” he sneered,

“Mind. Your. Words. Unlike your petty infatuation, my husband has earned his place in my House.”

He bared his teeth at her in an angry grimace before shoving away from his desk.

“Isaira would never bend to my will like he does, but you couldn’t have that, could you? You couldn’t have her in your house without kneeling! You couldn’t have Isaira’s daughter challenging your supremacy! My daughter!”

“Am I to understand that you blame me for your child’s force-blindness as well? I don’t recall ordering you to breed with that woman. Tell me Fallow, is there any responsibility at all that you’re willing to shoulder at this point?”

“Explain it then! Explain why my pure blooded daughter stumbles blindly in the darkness when your own half-breed spawn all but burns with her strength in the Force!”

Atrophine unsheathed her lightsaber and glared at him. Only her love for him prevented her from igniting it and cutting out his insolent tongue.

“Maker’s sake Fallow, you’re a grown man and a healer at that. An articulate Massassi Brute spreads her legs and you forget two decades of medical training? I shouldn’t have to explain what you did wrong! I shouldn’t have to tell you her genetics were riddled with so much inbreeding and slave stock that she was a step up from sterile! She could barely provide you with a living offspring much less a force-user! You should have asked her to build you a temple not bear you an heir!”

“She was my lover! And you! You forced her to raise a force-blind child as a mark of shame! You forced her to acknowledge a damaged offspring just to humiliate her!”

Atrophine stared at him defiant, refusing to apologize for her actions regardless of how they were perceived.

“Is that why you did it then? Your inability to love your child, you complete lack of empathy for a life you created, had you resort to murder?”

“Don’t lecture me!” he snarled as he threw the heavy desk between them against the wall with a single swoop of Force, “Don’t stand there with your hands covered in her blood and lecture me about taking a life! All she wanted was to prove she was your equal and you killed her for it! You coddle and protect every strayed Imperial that wanders into your arms but when it came to her! When it came to the the center of my world! Where was you damned mercy then?!”

“She challenged my leadership! She demanded a duel because her ambition blinded her to her weakness! SHE COULD NOT LIVE AS MY BETTER SO I ALLOWED HER TO DIE AS MY EQUAL!” she snapped blocking a chunk of stone he’d ripped up off the floor. “And you Fallow… you were my brother! You had a daughter that depended on you and what have you done? You’ve broken into my library, stolen sacred holocrons, and murdered Lord Antarus in the process! Antarus was one of our own bloodline! Did you think I would ignore your actions? Did you think you would not have to face the consequences of your crimes?”

Fallow’s silver eyes narrowed but his lips curled into a mad smile. He released a barrage of lightning causing Atrophine to raise a barrier in order to block the attack. The attack rebounded and struck Fallow squarely in the chest.

“You’re too late!” he choked as he doubled over, “do what you will with me sister, it is done… I’ve created a child given every advantage available. A child whose genetic code was updated and refined just as you purified your own child. When the time comes… my son. Isaria’s son will take his rightful place as Darth Cidran...”

“Do you think me blind? Do you think I don’t know all of this?” she asked her eyes reflecting only pain and regret. “I could have helped you. If this is what you wanted, I would have given you the child. He would have been born in the Medical House and wanted for nothing. Even this, all of this could have been forgiven. But even now, that woman blinds you to your sin. You murdered Lord Antarus.”

“Antarus was a decrepit old man too loyal to an ideal to have any common sense.”

“You’re a fool and an idiot! I didn’t come here to kill you, Fallow. I came to see if you were capable of showing an ounce of regret. I came to see if you could give me even a single excuse to overlook what you’ve done!”

A group of Sith in hooded cloaks filed in solemnly followed closely by a man with unnaturally silver hair in an Imperial uniform. Moff cords and bars decorated his jacket. His cold blue eyes stared at the cornered Sith Lord.

“Lord Fallow, we have heard the accusations leveled against you. As Darth Cidran, I find you guilty of the murder of Lord Antarus. In accordance with our law, you are hereby sentenced...” Atrophine took a breath before her silver eyes hardened, “you and your bloodline are stripped of your House, your holdings, and your title. You will be put to death and all record of your name will be purged from the archives. Your holdings are forfeit to Lord Antarus’ surviving family.”

Fallow’s eyes widened as though only just realizing the seriousness of his crimes.

“You can’t… you can’t be serious! You can’t give away what’s mine! I have an heir!”

All eyes were on Atrophine as she remained stoic observing Fallow’s increasing panic.

“Your daughter was born legitimately. She will be given to Imperial Intelligence. If she is worthy, she will find her way way home. Until then, she is banished to live without a family.”

“And my son? What are you going to do with my son?!”

“Your son is tainted with Lord Atarus’ blood. His birth was an act of violence against our family. He has no place among us. He will be processed as a slave: sterilized, branded, and crippled so he may never again raise his hand against us. We will retrieve the power you sought to steal and he will never wield the Dark Side again.”

“You can’t! Atrophine! Atrophine, you’re my sister, you can’t!”

“I am Darth Cidran, and you are not my brother! You are a murderer and you will watch the entire process before you die.”

The rain fell heavy upon the large transparent window pane. It was a different storm than the one that had befallen Fallow’s manor, this one was lighter, almost gentle. Gray light filtered through the clouds casting a silver sheen over every surface. The Main House was tastefully furnished and kept in immaculate condition by a fleet of service droids. The walls held paintings and tapestries wrested from Coruscant, Alderaan, and various Republic holdings. There were priceless treasures and masterpieces claimed over generations with each victory, now beheld by only a select few. Usually the Main House held a softness and warmth unusual among the Sith, but displayed only towards their own, closely knit family. Today the House was cold.

Darth Cidran stood at one of the oversized windows and stared at a red smear on the courtyard. The deed was done:  Justice and order restored at the price of her own heart. She stood, draped in crimson and gold, but feeling as though all the light had drained out of her. Her thoughts lay buried within her memories revisiting every moment where she could have changed the outcome. All the times she refused to act, she had justified it with the belief that her brother meant no harm. Darth Cidran stared at the lick of red being washed away by the soft rains.

She could have forbidden it. She could have spirited away the woman he’d become so entranced by. She could have forced him to remain in the Main House. He would have hated her, but he would still be alive.

She could have spared the creature’s life…

The idea had been repulsive to her. To have spared Isaira’s life after her disrespectful tirade would have tarnished her name. To allow that low-born creature to continue drawing breath after insulting her would have been a crippling blow to her honor. Yet now, faced with his loss she would gladly bear it.

“No. You’re wrong,” a voice cut into her thoughts and she glanced to see her husband approaching with a sleeping child in his arms. The light contrasted with the scar that covered most of the right side of his face, marring what would have otherwise been a pleasantly symmetrical face.

“I’ve not said anything dearest.”

“You were thinking it. I can tell because you get that look on your face, that same look you get when a healing’s gone wrong,” he replied as stood by her side.

“How is she doing?” Atrophine changed the subject to the sleeping toddler.

“Difficult to say. It doesn’t seem Fallow paid her any mind. She wouldn’t stop crying for her nanny droid. I’ve had one of the scouts see if he could find the damned thing before...”

“Before she’s handed over,” Atrophine finished the sentence for him.

Atrophine could sense his hesitation. Veroz was a practical man with practical thoughts, that wasn’t to say he was stupid, but often times she could sense his puzzlement at Sith customs and obligations. She’d caught him several times reading up on Sith codes of honor to glean some sort of understanding.

“Are you sure you want to go through with it? Wasn’t his death enough?”

“You know I don’t want to, love. It’s not her fault,” Atrophine replied as she carefully took the sleeping child from him, “my poor little Ara. I’d hoped you and Tremas would grow up to be the best of friends. I’d hoped you would have found your own way, your own strength, your own power. I would have been with you every step of the way. I would have given you every advantage, every opportunity.”

Veroz watched as his wife gently rubbed the small child’s back. He knew she was saying goodbye.

“You won’t remember my face, or your parents, or this place, but I want you to remember my words,” her voice became laced with strands of raw Force as she spoke, “always remember you have a home. You are not an orphan. You are not abandoned. You are not alone. You are loved… you are so loved… come back to us. No matter where you are in this galaxy, find us. Remember where you belong. Remember… that we will be waiting for you.”

They walked in silence down the brightly lit corridors to the nursery. She pressed a kiss on the toddler’s forehead before tucking her in bed.

“She will be out of harm’s way,” Veroz promised once they’d left the room, “one of my agents will place her in a secure home.”

“She will be a pureblooded Sith in the Republic without the Force to protect her. Her life will not be easy, but her fate is better than that of her brother’s,” Atrophine countered as they descended the great spiral staircase down into the kitchens. Veroz opened the ornately decorated door to the servant’s quarters and immediately heard an infant’s desperate cries coming from deep within one of the barracks.

An Inquisitor was there monitoring the child’s health with a scanner. He bowed when Darth Cidran approached.

“The procedure has been completed, my lord. He has been clipped and marked as a non-breeding slave.”

Atrophine gave a single nod in acknowledgement before dismissing the healer with a wave of her hand. Slowly she approached the crying infant. Unlike his sister, he was not dressed in silks and his ridges held no gold adornments. He was bare-faced and swaddled in coarse rags. His lips had been slashed with twin parallel lines to indicate his status as an undesirable, chemically neutered slave. All the physical modifications we easy enough to numb, she knew his pain and cries came from the force alchemy procedure he had just endured.

Veroz remained at the doorway at a loss to what he could say. There were no words to ever fix what was happening. Finally he fished out a tiny gold bracelet with a name set in shining letters and offered it to his wife.

“It appears Fallow named him. ‘Isauro’, after his mother.”

Atrophine stared at the gilded letters describing a child so very different than the one sobbing before them. She reached out and placed a hand over his forehead soothing his distress as she visibly forced herself not to hold him.

“Isauro of House Cidran is the child you would have been. You would have grown up within these walls. The gardens would have been your domain, the hidden rivers and wonders of the mountain yours to discover. In our libraries you would have learned of your legacy and the knowledge left for us to hold. Within our Houses you would have found your passion, your talent, your skills… you would have been treasured. You would have been our pride...” her hand clenched around the bracelet, “but that is not who you are. You are… the culmination of greed and malice. You are the by-product of a selfish desire that threatened to destroy us; a blind ambition that cannot be rewarded. Your wings have been broken, your song torn from your throat. We have taken back the power that was stolen. You will never know the warmth of crimson sands or the bond of family or the thrill of your first hunt. You will never fully experience freedom or passion or love. These are gifts from the Dark Side and they are denied to you. You are banished to the cold unfeeling depths of isolation. You are not Isauro, that child does not exist. I name you Vaakot. Do not search for your family. You have none. Do not search for your past, it has disowned you.”

Veroz listened solemnly as she uttered the words like a curse upon the child. He knew what would happen should Vaakot remain within the Empire. A crippled pureblood unable to use the Dark Side would be enslaved and suffer a particularly gruesome death. Even should Atrophine allow Vaakot to remain within her House, he would be disdained and abused by all of its members.

“The only gift I give to you, is a life within the ice. It will have to be enough, you will receive nothing else, Vaakot,” she said as the child cried louder and she turned away as though pained before summoning her Inquisitor once more.

“Take the creature to Nar Shadda. On the promenade’s second floor you will find a slave market. Sell it there and give the money to Lord Antarus’ heirs to make amends for his existence...”

Once the wailing child had been taken away, Veroz held Atrophine. They both knew what was in that market. The Republic kept a close eye on it and a Sith Pureblood would attract their attention. A life among the Jedi… a life among the cold barren wasteland of the Force was the best he could aspire to be. Tomorrow, he would take little Ara to her new life but Ara’s trip was the beginning a journey. Unlike Vaakot, Ara would be able to find her way back home.